Dissonant Notes (Ryo/Ueda, R) [3/3]
Jan. 1st, 2012 05:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maayacolabackupMusic is a lot like taking things Ryo doesn’t understand and turning them into things he can’t help but know.
Ryo doesn’t understand why his heart has chosen to beat faster when he sees Ueda, but when he remembers the way Ueda sounds just singing along while Ryo strums the guitar, he thinks the sound of Ueda’s voice forces some sort of clarity into his chest, and he knows, at least, that this is something different.
“What’s up?” Ohkura asks, sitting down next to Ryo at the bar. “When I called to ask you if you wanted to get lunch I didn’t really expect us to meet at a bar.”
“I’m having a bad day,” Ryo says dryly, his arms crossed protectively across his stomach. The bartender sets a giant mug of beer in front of him, foam bubbling over the edge. Ryo catches some with his lips.
“I can see that,” Ohkura says, judgmentally looking back and forth between Ryo and the beer. “So what’s wrong, then?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ryo grumbles, taking a swig of the beer. It’s not his usual—it’s a little too heavy and dark. It’s more like the shit Jin likes to drink, but Ryo is hoping to borrow a little of Jin’s cavalier recklessness for a while. Just until he figures out what to do.
“Then why the hell am I here?” Ohkura asks. “Seriously, I just wanted a sandwich.”
“You never just want a sandwich. You want twelve sandwiches. You asked where I was,” Ryo says. “All I did was tell you.”
“You gave me an address and accompanied it with a sad face emoticon,” Ohkura says, rolling his eyes. “It was a plea for help. I’m not Yamashita or Akanishi, Ryo-chan. I can take a hint.”
“Maybe I just wanted to you to come so I wouldn’t be that guy,” Ryo says.
“That guy?”
“The one who drinks alone in bars because he’s dead inside,” Ryo answers, then takes a large gulp of beer.
“Awww,” Ohkura says. “Talk to Tacchon, Ryo-chan. What’s got your tighty-whities up your butt?”
“I know you are not casting those sorts of stones,” Ryo says, eying Ohkura’s tight jeans with a quirking smile despite his foul mood. Ohkura’s pants make Ryo wonder if Ohkura even bothered with underwear that morning. “It’s complicated.”
“I can do complicated,” Ohkura replies. “Hit me with your best shot.” Ohkura is smiling at him, and it’s gentle, and Ryo can feel the knot in his belly loosen just a little.
“What does it mean,” Ryo says tentatively, “when you don’t understand someone at all but you sort of want to kiss them?”
“Excuse me?” Ohkura says, and his eyes are wide.
“Never mind,” Ryo grunts, and examines the calluses from guitar that litter his second knuckles. They’re hard earned, sort of like the calluses on Ueda’s hands from boxing. Ryo knows that Ueda spends a lot of free time punching at bags of sand to build up the endurance of his hands. Ueda, Ryo thinks, taught himself how to take a beating. Ryo’s calluses don’t protect him quite as much.
“Is this…” Ohkura’s voice drawls off. “Is this about a girl?”
Ryo can taste the beer on his tongue. The aftertaste lingers like molasses. Ryo doesn’t know why or how Jin drinks this shit. Focusing on the taste keeps Ryo’s mind off of his problem, though, so maybe he understands the why if not the how. “No,” Ryo says, and it’s true, but it sounds hollow and false in his own ears. Ryo thinks that’s because he knows what Ohkura is really asking, which is ‘Is this about something sexual,’ in which case the answer would be a resounding yes.
Ryo cradles his beer against his chest as Ohkura stares at him, hands on his hips and one eyebrow arched in derision. “Are you shitting me?” Okhura says, “Are you seriously sitting here, staring into your beer, because you have a crush on some girl?”
“Shut up,” Ryo mutters, pursing his lips and clutching the beer even tighter in his fingers.
“It feels wrong having this conversation in a bar,” Okhura muses. “Maybe we should be on the playground instead, because I swear I haven't had a conversation like this since elementary school.”
“Fuck you,” Ryo says, reaching one hand up to irately ruffle his own hair. It’s getting too long, and the ends of it tickle his neck and face. “I’ve been having dreams.”
“Oh, my bad,” Ohkura says, raising an eyebrow. “Wet dreams are involved. Middle school, then.” Ohkura leans an elbow on the bar, and gets into Ryo’s face. “She must be really hot.”
Ryo thinks about Ueda’s goofy giggle, and starts to snort, but then he remembers the way Ueda’s body had overpowered his own, shoving him into the studio wall and leaving him gasping for air, and he feels himself flush. “Sort of,” Ryo says, more to the beer than to Ohkura. “But it’s not like that.”
“Oh, she is,” Ohkura says. “I don’t know, Ryo, I’ve never known you to have trouble picking up women.”
“It’s not like that, at all,” Ryo says again, defiantly. “It’s not a matter of… picking someone up.” Ryo rubs exasperatedly at his eyes. “Have you ever…liked someone against your will?”
Now Ohkura is looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “Only you, Nishikido, would turn a crush into some strange form of suffering.”
Ryo lets his head hit the bar. The wood is cool against his hot skin.
“Sometimes,” Ohkura continues, as if Ryo has not crumpled melodramatically onto the bar in front of him. “Sometimes our heart knows all sorts of things our head doesn’t.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Ryo sighs. “You’re too young to be giving me love advice.”
“You’re old enough to know you should take it,” Ohkura replies. “Love doesn’t need to be so complicated. If you like someone, you tell them. If they like you, great. If they don’t like you, you move on.” Ohkura spins a little on his stool until his knees bump Ryo’s. “You should know that. You’ve been shot down before. I’ve seen it.”
“It’s not like that, I said. I’m just confused. I don’t think it’s that kind of like.”
“What?” Ohkura says. “All this drama is over wanting to be someone’s friend?”
Ryo remembers the way Ueda, in his dream, wrapped thick lips around his cock. No. Not friends. Not at all like friends.
“This is different,” Ryo snaps. “More…” More what? Ro doesn’t know. More difficult, maybe. More ridiculous, definitely. More frightening? Without a doubt. “More confusing,” Ryo says, and that weird, lingering feeling solidifies in his chest, and when his heart starts to beat faster… well, this time, Ryo knows what it is.
Because it is like that. Because maybe it’s not that confusing at all. “Shit,” Ryo says, and clenches his hands tighter around his beer mug. He looks up, then, and catches the bartender’s eye. “Tequila,” he says, when the bartender returns his gaze, and Ohkura elbows him.
“It’s two in the afternoon,” Ohkura says, and Ryo can feel the panic bubbling beneath the surface of his skin, clawing at his insides and tearing him to shreds. He lets wide, wild eyes drift to meet Ohkura’s, and whatever Ohkura sees has him gesturing to the bartender to make it two shots. “You’re really going to have to buy me lunch after this, or I’m going to pass out.”
Your drama’s doing well. And you owe me coffee, the message says, and Ryo stares at it as the director calls his name over and over again.
“Nishikido, we need you on set now,” the director says. “Preferably focused.”
“Right, right,” Ryo says, dropping his cigarette to the ground and putting it out. He picks it up again, and drops it in the trash. Ueda had seen him leave it once, and chided him that it was bad for dogs, so Ryo sees his put-out face every time he tries to leave a cigarette butt on the ground now. Which is annoying because now Ryo associates that face with blow job faces, and Ryo’s about to film a scene a moving moment between himself and the little girl playing his daughter, which is… well, not the time to imagine someone blowing you.
busy, Ryo texts back, with no explanations or alternate plans. He usually does, but he’s kind of…scared to see Ueda. He doesn’t know how he’ll react now that he knows there’s something, well, sexual in all of this. Kind of scared might be an understatement, really. Ryo’s never actually been attracted to a man before, and that it’s Ueda, who he’s formed a tentative friendship with based on a mutual love of music and snark, is…well, it’s actually terrifying.
“Have any more epiphanies, lately, Mr. Nishikido?” a woman asks him, and Ryo shoves his phone hastily into his coat pocket. It’s the staff girl, the same one who’d advised him on the curb when he was first coming to terms with wanting to spend more time with Ueda.
“What do you think about butterflies?” Ryo asks her, tucking his face down for warmth. She pulls out a compact from her apron and dusts a little powder across his nose.
“I think butterflies are pretty spectacular,” she says. “Isn’t it amazing how they change from lowly caterpillars into something so beautiful?”
“Yeah,” Ryo says, and he hunches his shoulders, and his scarf is warm, at least.
“You’d better go,” she says. “The director looks anxious. I suspect he’s as cold as you are.”
“Right,” Ryo says, and his phone buzzes. Tomorrow then?
im busy then 2.
Ryo buries his nose into the scarf, and the staff girl sighs, because she’s just fixed his make-up. The black wool tickles his cheeks. Ueda’s scarf. It smells like spring.
Oh, Ueda writes back. Then maybe next week, Nishikido. I miss calling you stupid to your face.
Ryo is sort of stupid.
“What did you do?” Kame says into the phone, and Ryo winces, because it’s seven-thirty in the morning and it’s sort of an ungodly hour to be calling someone’s phone. Ryo wouldn’t have answered, except that he fell asleep last night with his phone on his pillow debating about whether or not to respond to Ueda’s invitation to go to a music show. The buzzing this morning had been right in his ear, annoying and impossible to ignore, and Ryo had groggily hit the accept call button on reflex to make it stop.
“Wha?” Ryo says into the receiver, and Kamenashi sighs.
“To Ueda. What did you do?”
Ryo’s brain clamors for focus at Ueda’s name. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s acting like someone killed his dogs. He’s been…in a good mood a lot more, since you guys started being friends. Now he looks like Bambi when his mother dies.”
“I don’t know,” Ryo says, but it’s a lie. Ryo’s knows what’s going on.
He’s scared. Sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he sees Ueda’s sunny grin and it isn’t…that’s not friendship that he feels all the way from the tips of his toes all the way to the ends of his fingertips. It’s not friendship, and that’s frightening, because it’s never been a man that Ryo imagines in his dreams, touching fevered skin and making him cry out.
And more importantly, it’s never been Ueda, and Ryo’s kind of worried that he’ll see Ueda now and all that will come out is muffled squeaks and gibberish, instead of the witty comebacks he’d rather find waiting at the tip of his tongue.
“Look,” Kame says. “We have a concert, okay? We need Ueda, not this sad, moping creature that checks his cell phone every twenty minutes.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Ryo insists, and his mouth is fuzzy with the dredges of sleep. “Ueda’s a grown up fairy-princess, now. And I’m not his baby-sitter.”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to act like a regular person, every once in a while, you know?” Kame sounds exasperated. “No one’s going to think you’re any less tough because you have feelings.” Kamenashi says the word ‘feelings’ like it’s the word ‘cooties’, and it makes Ryo want to smile, except he can’t stop imagining Ueda the way he looked that one time in the bathroom, hurt in his eyes.
“Shut up,” Ryo says half-heartedly, and he winds his duvet up around the fingers of his left hand, pulling it under his chin because it’s cold in his room. “Just shut up, okay. You can’t make me do anything.”
“Besides,” Kame says, as if Ryo hasn’t spoken. “No one really thinks you’re tough, anyway.”
Ryo hangs up on him, just to prove he is that tough, and pulls the duvet over his head. The covers shield him from the light, and in the dark, Ryo’s only got his gloomy thoughts for company.
Ueda was standing backstage when Ryo walked off the set, gleeful smile on his face. KAT-TUN, Ryo knew, was flying high on the success of a third number-one single in a row.
“Must be nice,” Ueda had said, his voice like ice, “to be able to talk shit about people all the time without consequences.”
“It’s awesome,” Ryo had said in response. “I don’t take anything anyone says about me seriously, either.”
“That must be even nicer.”
“I don’t get hurt,” Ryo told him. “Toughen up. Don’t be such a coward.”
“I think you’re a bigger coward than me,” Ueda said, and Ryo thought then that Ueda might be right.
They’re both young, and lost, and Ueda’s searching, but Ryo just hides behind sharp words and an over-exaggerated swagger.
Music is a lot like quicksand.
Ryo can just let himself sink deeper and deeper inside of it, until he can’t see or hear anything but the lyrics resounding in his head.
Ueda’s voice is loud and clear, though, and Ryo can hear it no matter how deep he sinks.
Ryo’s luck runs out on the first day of March. He’s almost impressed he made it this long without running into Ueda, considering KAT-TUN has just released an album and Eito is about to release a new single.
He can feel Ueda’s eyes on him from across the stage, and Hina is doing all the talking, which leaves Ryo with nothing to distract him from the other man except his own willpower, which means, frankly, that there is nothing to distract him at all.
Ueda’s hair is getting longer. It’s around his ears, now, looking a little sheep-doggish in the front. His lips are shiny with gloss, and he’s wearing those stupid short pants, and he looks good. Damn good, Ryo thinks, and even though he’s on TV, and he knows he has to watch himself, Ryo finds that his eyes keep drifting back over to Ueda.
“Nishikido,” one of the hosts says. “I notice you keep looking at Ueda. Still that old rivalry?”
“What?” Ryo says, because he hasn’t really been paying attention. His brain runs through the question. “What rivalry? I was just noticing Ueda’s hair has grown since I last saw him.”
“Oh? Was that recently?” The host asks, leaning in like Ryo’s been keeping secrets. Ryo doesn’t like the way everyone’s eyes shift to him. Yoko is smiling deviously, like he’s about to tell the story of Ryo collapsing face-first onto the floor whining about having to work with Ueda, which would totally fuel more rumors that Ryo doesn’t need.
Fortunately, Kame is nothing if not quick with his saves. “That would be my fault,” Kame says. “As I asked them to write a song for me together.”
“Really?” The host says. “What’s it sound like?”
“I guess you’ll have to wait until the concert to hear it,” Kame says smoothly.
“If I can even get tickets!” The host laughs, and they all laugh, because they’re supposed to, even though it’s not funny, and they all know the host wouldn’t set foot in that lion’s den of screaming, flailing women, even if two tickets were dropped on his front step.
Ryo feels exposed, and he has trouble looking anywhere but at the wall for the rest of the interview.
Ueda corners him afterward, trapping Ryo against the wall with one arm, the other resting on his own hip. That mole, the one Ryo noticed weeks and weeks ago, draws his gaze, and Ryo licks his lips because the only thing missing is Ueda’s hand in his shirt.
Ueda’s gorgeous like this, Ryo thinks, eyes serious and eyebrows pulled together like he means business. “Why are you ignoring me?”
His breath is hot, and it tickles at Ryo’s eyelashes, making him squirm backwards as far as he can, which isn’t far with the hallway wall behind him. Ryo’s eyes dart from side to side, but they’re alone. The rest of KAT-TUN seems to have disappeared, and Ryo can hear Yoko’s distinctive cackle from inside the make-up room, where he assumes the rest of Eito are too. “I’m not ignoring you. Don’t be high maintenance.”
He tries to make his voice sound assured, but even he can hear the tinge of panic that colors his tone, so he knows Ueda can hear it too.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ueda asks. “I don’t get it. I thought we were… friends,” and Ueda glows an interesting red, with anger or something, “and then suddenly, out of nowhere, you stop answering calls or responding to messages. It’s like you dropped off the face of the planet.”
Ueda is too close. Ryo’s eyes catch Ueda’s for a moment, and then they drop down to Ueda’s mouth, just for a moment, and when he looks back up, Ueda’s eyes are wide and round. The dark black eyeliner around the rim is perfectly applied, Ryo thinks, like that matters when Ueda is close enough that Ryo could...
“Ryo—“ Ueda starts, and it’s too hot and Ryo is suffocating and Ueda is looking at him with those eyes, and his lithe body is emanating so much heat that Ryo feels like he’s in a sauna. Ueda’s hand reaches tentatively for Ryo’s shoulder, and Ryo bats it away. Ueda steps back like he’s been stung.
“I’m not ignoring you,” Ryo says desperately. “I just…”
“What?” Ueda says. “What?”
“Leave me alone!” Ryo says. “Just…don’t text me anymore. I’m tired of it.”
“No coffee?” Ueda says, and Ryo looks at him, but he can’t see Ueda’s face, at all. “Fine,” and then Ueda is gone, and Ryo’s left to slide down the wall on shaky knees, and wonder what he’s done.
If there’s anything Ryo is exceptionally talented in, that’s not, you know, playing the guitar and trolling, it is sulking.
And for the next week, Ryo sulks like a champion, to the extent that even Yoko can’t beat a smile out of him with physical violence, although he and Subaru give it their best shot.
Ohkura pats him on the back. “That girl shoot you down, Ryo-chan?” He asks, and Ryo swears at him, and Ohkura pretends like he’s older and ruffles Ryo’s hair.
“There’s no girl,” Ryo mumbles miserably. He checks his phone, and there are still no texts from Ueda.
“And there was no tequila, either,” Ohkura says with an exaggerated wink. “Stop checking your phone, you look desperate.”
Ryo gives him the finger, but he slides his phone into his pocket. He’d told Ueda not to text, anyway. Ryo’s got a sinking feeling that Ueda has listened to him.
He sits in the corner then, yellow notebook on his lap, and just… looks at the way Ueda’s kanji curl across the page, his pre-school-looking hiragana evenly spaced and taunting. Ryo wonders why he’s fucked up something so promising.
Uchi orders ‘Ashita no Joe’ off of cable before Ryo has the chance to tell him he doesn’t want to watch a half-starved Yamapi pretend to be a boxer for two hours, so they’re stuck watching it. Ryo kind of thinks Uchi is perving on the other guy in the movie, the model, but he’s feeling mellow with a tumbler of whiskey in hand, so he doesn’t bother to mock Uchi for his gay. Plus, Ryo’s wrestling with his own gay right now, and that’s enough gay for the both of them.
Watching Yamapi’s character, Joe, get into the ring for the first time pulls Ryo back to seeing Ueda in training back on the first real day of their friendship, nothing but determination and long lean muscle. He remembers the way Ueda had shaped Ryo’s hand into a proper fist, showing him how to punch. The way Ueda hand smiled at him, skin shining with perspiration, face open and honest. Ryo had smiled back.
Ryo likes Ueda. Actually just likes him. It’s the crazy stomach flips and the urge to… it’s wanting Ueda to push him into the wall again and kiss all of the sense out of him that he doesn’t like. It’s wanting more from the man than a cup of coffee on a Tuesday is what Ryo doesn’t like. Ryo’s… afraid of losing control like that, and sort of afraid of messing things up too, even though he’s basically already done that.
“Hey, Uchi?”
“What?” Uchi says distractedly, eyes riveted to the screen. His hand is paused halfway up to his mouth filled with popcorn, the whole hand greasy with butter.
“Do you think I’m a coward?”
“So it’s one of those types of conversations,” Uchi says. He sighs and leans forward, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie. Then he turns sideways on the couch and folds his hands together. “I knew something was up. Why do you think you’re a coward?”
“No reason in particular,” Ryo says, and examines his thumbnail, which is suddenly fascinating to him.
“I think, sometimes, you get scared of feeling things. So scared that you miss important stuff.”
“Important stuff?” Ryo queries, and Uchi nods seriously, his hair flopping into his face.
“Yeah,” Uchi says. “Like that… other people are scared of feeling stuff too.”
The first song Ryo writes in his yellow music notebook is about feeling things you aren’t supposed to feel.
It’s melodramatic and cheesy and everything inside of Ryo right now, and he’ll never show Jin, ever, because then he’ll have lost his leverage for making fun of Jin’s sappy lyrics.
But it’s true, and it’s real, and Ryo sort of thinks it’s a good song, even with the melancholy Spanish guitar plucks in the bridge.
Music is a lot like embracing the crazy sounds of life and finding some order in the chaos.
When Ryo sleeps, he listens to a cheap recording of Kame’s solo song, and all he can do is imagine Ueda playing the piano parts, hands effortlessly dancing along the keys. He imagines Ueda staring him down, too, and when he wakes up, he’s hard, and lost, and confused all over again.
Ryo wonders if a music staff can make order out of the chaos in his heart.
Ueda held the cookie up to his nose and sniffed. “Is it poisoned?” Ryo huffed.
“I don’t believe in wasting food,” Ryo said, because Ryo and food have a special relationship. “Put it in your face.”
“Why did you buy me cookies?” Ueda asked, and Ryo sighed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms protectively across his chest.
“Kame said you liked sweet things. Do you not like cookies?” Kame had laughed at him for twenty minutes when Ryo had asked, so Ryo was going to be pissed if it was false information.
“No, I do. I just don’t understand…” Ueda looked perplexed, like Ryo was speaking another language or something, and not just giving him a box of cookies.
“It’s a peace offering,” Ryo grumbled, wetting his lips and staring out into the distance, like he didn’t give a damn. “I was rude the first few days we were working together. I’m trying to be more professional.”
“That’s… going to take a lot of effort, on your part,” Ueda said. But then he took a bite of the cookie, and smiled. “Good cookies, though. They’re my favorite kind.”
They were Ryo’s favorite kind, too.
Ryo doesn’t know what makes him text Ueda that night, but he’s pressing the send button before he can begin to think better of it. He thinks it might be the way his hand brushes against the yellow leather of his music notebook, the edges already fraying from being shoved into his bag to go wherever he goes. Or maybe it’s the way Ueda’s hurt eyes flash in his memory, the way his mouth went a little slack and the way Ryo could see him pull back into himself, leaving Ryo shivering at the loss.
Either way, his hands skate across the touch screen with an apology before he tries to talk himself out of it.
sorry for being a dick, the message says. Ryo doesn’t know what else to say, really, and Ueda isn’t going to respond, anyway, so he’s not sure why he’s worrying about it.
When Ryo’s phone buzzes an hour later, vibrating frantically on his dresser and startling Ryo out of his sleep, the last thing he expects is to see Ueda’s name flashing on his phone.
If I don’t know you’re a dick by now, then I’m almost as dumb as you are, is the message waiting when Ryo blinks bleary eyes at the screen.
Ryo licks his lips, suddenly wide-awake again. He wonders if he’s supposed to respond. He reads the message a hundred times, but he doesn’t get any more meaning from it than the initial insult.
In frustration, he types another message back. you make me so confused.
After he sends it, he feels like he’s said more than he meant to. He stares at the phone, like he can will Ueda to respond more quickly with the power of his glare. When it does vibrate, it’s a call, not a text.
“Yeah?” Ryo says, holding the phone up to his ear. He thinks his hands are shaking, but that would be ridiculous.
“I’m not going to text you about your feelings, Nishikido,” Ueda says, and his voice is husky on the phone. It sends shivers down Ryo’s spine, and images from his dream rise, unbidden. Ryo fights to concentrate on the here and now. “That’s teenager stuff.”
“Why’d you call, then?” Ryo says, and he sounds stubborn and ornery, but maybe that’s better than the alternative, which is lost and vulnerable.
Ueda laughs into the phone. “You’re so transparent,” Ueda says, and Ryo sucks his lower lip all the way into his mouth, eyes falling closed at the smooth cadence of Ueda’s voice. “And stupid.”
“I’m not stupid,” Ryo says, but it’s a feeble protest. Lately he feels stupid, anyway. Like he’s so close to figuring all of this out, but his head can’t quite wrap around what his heart is trying to say.
“Meet me for coffee tomorrow,” Ueda says. “During lunch time.”
“Where?” Ryo says, and that’s not what he meant to say. He meant to say ‘No, I’m a busy guy’, or maybe ‘No, I don’t have to see you anymore, and I’ll be so much less of a mess if I can forget you exist.’ But Ryo doesn’t say either of those things, even though they’re both true, because…well, he doesn’t know why, only he’s been dreaming of Ueda’s wide pouting mouth and sparkling eyes, and the way his gleeful little laugh echoes in Ryo’s mind and in Ryo’s insides, rattling like a caged bird against the walls of his chest.
He wants to see him. And Ryo only drinks coffee with people he likes.
“I’ll find you,” Ueda says calmly, too calmly, and it makes Ryo feel like a total dork. “And I’ll bring the coffee.”
“Okay,” Ryo says. “Okay.”
That night, as Ryo sleeps, he dreams of holding hands. Of interlaced fingers, and his thumb rubbing against callused skin, and of a pinky finger that doesn’t bend.
When he wakes up in the morning, he can still feel that hand in his own, and it makes him feel really, really gay.
“You’re so short you need a ladder to reach manhood,” Yoko says, and Ryo gives up trying to see out into the crowd and swears at him, tugging at his sweater and trying to subtly shift closer to Yasu. “It’s like we’ve got all these kids in our band.”
“Agreed,” Maru says, and high-fives Yoko. Yoko cackles gleefully, and Ryo combs his bangs out anxiously with his fingers. Subaru is scowling at them, but he looks more like a crotchety geezer than a threat. “At least we’ve got Ohkura on team ‘Normal-sized-people.”
Ohkura chooses that moment to walk over, his eyes catching Ryo’s. Ryo shifts uncomfortably, and Ohkura raises a single brow.
“Why are you all antsy?” Ohkura asks, dropping his hands onto Ryo’s shoulders. “Did you ask that girl out on another date?”
Ryo flushes, because it’s not too far from the truth. Even if there’s no girl involved, not by any stretch of the imagination, and even if Ryo didn’t really do any of the asking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryo mutters, and Yoko, like some sort of gossip vulture, is suddenly hovering by Ryo’s side once more.
“A girl?” Yoko says. “Like, a real one? With breasts and a vagina?” Yoko wraps his arms around Ryo and squeezes, knocking Ohkura’s comforting hands aside. “Ryo-chan, I’m so proud.”
“There’s no girl,” Ryo hisses, and wriggles out of Yoko’s arms. “Seriously. No girl.”
Yoko cackles loudly. “Alright, Ryo, whatever you say.”
Ryo looks back at Ohkura, who’s gazing at him speculatively. “What’re you looking at, beanstalk?”
Ohkura shakes his head, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of high-chew. It’s the same flavor Ueda likes, and that’s enough to make Ryo accept it.
Ueda does find him, somehow. He’s casually waiting in the hallway when Ryo and Maru walk out to go to the vending machine after losing a fierce game of janken, and he’s casually leaning against the wall with two coffees in his hands. There’s steam coming from the top of the lids, but Ryo doesn’t recognize the logo on the cups.
Ryo isn’t expecting him to be there, for some reason. He’d thought Ueda would call, or text, and Ryo would excuse himself and they’d meet in some neutral place. He almost drops the coins in his hand in his surprise.
“I guess he’s here for you,” Maru says, and he snags the yen Ryo is carrying and walks off whistling.
“I hate him,” Ryo mutters half-heartedly as Ueda hands him a coffee. He looks at Ueda, and his eyes flicker down to Ueda’s jeans. “You’re wearing pants.”
“Figured I’d stay on your good side, since you were ignoring me and all.”
“Yeah, but now it’s spring,” Ryo says. “You don’t make any sense.”
“I thought you told me no time was the ‘right time’ for capris.”
“Why didn’t you call, or something?”
“Didn’t want you to cancel on me, or something. You’re too emotionally constipated to be trusted to keep your appointments these days.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryo says, taking a sip. It’s hot. “I get it. I am incompetent.”
“You ignored me for weeks, then freaked out when I asked you about it.”
“I am terrible at dealing with my emotions. Do you even know me?” Ryo asks, and he takes another sip. It’s good coffee. Strong.
“I do, now,” Ueda says. “But I don’t… I don’t get it. Can you explain to me what I did, at least?”
“You didn’t do anything,” Ryo grumbles, looking down at the floor. “Nothing. It’s not your fault.” Ryo wants to scream, kind of, because he doesn’t know how to explain it.
“Then what? Why?” Ueda’s eyes pin him in place, and Ryo can’t run away from this.
“It’s um…” Ryo can’t help it, his eyes fall to Ueda’s lips again, and when they return to Ueda’s there’s an incredulous look on his face. “I can’t…”
Ueda exhales. “You mean you…” Ueda steps closer, and Ryo thinks he’s testing the water. “It’s like that?”
“Yeah,” Ryo says. “It’s like that.” Ryo forces the words out of his mouth, and his tongue is thick and heavy.
“Oh,” Ueda says, and then he laughs. Ryo is a little horrified, that Ueda is laughing at him, that Ueda knows this thing he’s been battling with for weeks and he’s laughing about it. “You are so dumb,” Ueda says, and then he’s dropping his coffee, and it splatters on the floor, and Ryo certainly isn’t going to clean that up—
But then Ueda is using his free hands to grab both sides of Ryo’s face, and Ryo remembers how those hands felt in his dreams. It’s nothing compared to reality, because the fingers are warm, and despite the suddenness, Ueda is gentle.
“You’re dumb,” Ryo starts to say, and then Ueda leans forward and kisses him, and Ryo is dropping his own coffee to fist his hands into the fabric of Ueda’s blazer; not to drag him closer, but to hold on for dear life because he thinks he might be swooning. His shins are burning, too, but that’s more from the spilt coffee, which has ruined his pants, Ryo is sure.
Ueda’s lips are as soft as the look, and Ryo feels like he’s melting into them as Ueda carefully sucks Ryo’s lower lip into his mouth, biting down just enough that Ryo can feel it, and then he swipes his tongue along it in recompense. Ryo tilts his head to the side, then, so that he can get a little closer, closes his eyes, and presses their lips more firmly together, enjoying the way Ueda’s fingers slide up and into his hair, and the way Ueda gasps when the tip of Ryo’s own tongue peeks out to touch his. Ueda tastes like spring, and Ryo realizes Ueda didn’t taste a single sip of that coffee, but it doesn’t matter, because Ueda’s tasting him instead. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and it’s not what he expected at all; it’s more than that, and all he wants to do it part Ueda’s lips and let their tongues tangle together.
“I’m sorry,” Ueda says, pulling back from Ryo’s mouth without letting go of Ryo or stepping away from him at all. Ryo can feel Ueda’s every panting breath against the skin of his cheek, and the tacky remnants of Ueda’s lip gloss along his mouth and chin, and it’s wonderful. Ryo licks experimentally at his lips, and it’s strawberry flavored gloss. “Were you going to say something?”
“No,” Ryo says fervently, and all he wants is to kiss Ueda again—to figure out if kissing him will make his heart stop doing these bizarre acrobatics in his chest, or make the whole thing worse. “Not really.”
Ueda does step back then, and look down at the floor and his jeans in dismay. “These are the only pair of jeans I own that I actually don’t hate. Does coffee stain?”
Ryo chuckles, and then it turns into a deep laugh, the kind you can feel all the way in the pit of your belly, because they’re making out in the hallway in a public place and there’s lip gloss on Ryo’s mouth and Ryo’s world is upside down and Ueda’s worried if coffee is going to stain his jeans. “Does it even matter? You’ve got like, a million pair of those stupid black shorts,” Ryo manages to say, somehow, and his voice is high pitched, but he gives himself a break because this is all so surreal.
“Wow,” Ueda says, and Ryo thinks Ueda’s having trouble finding the tone he wants too, because his voice comes out sounding all warm and gooey. “You must really like me, to make such sacrifices in your code of fashion conduct.”
Ryo scowls, and leans back against the wall, shoving his hands into his own pockets and awkwardly looking up at the ceiling, trying to get his bearings. He takes a deep breath, and then he looks at Ueda again, who’s watching him with that smile, inviting and shy and devious all at once. “Not that shirt though,” Ryo chokes out, because Ueda looks gorgeous, grinning like that, and it’s not Ryo’s fault that the words don’t want to come out. “It’s hideous. It looks like something Matsumoto would wear…during an Arashi concert.”
“I like you, too,” Ueda says.
Maru chooses that moment to come around the corner, bearing an armful of drinks. “What the hell happened?” He looks disapprovingly at Ryo. “What did you do?”
“Me?!” Ryo squawks, indignant. “Why is it my fault?”
“It’s always your fault,” Maru says. “Why are you all red?”
“I am not red—“ Ryo starts to say, and Ueda chuckles, leaning down and picking up both cups, sighing at the legs of his jeans, and poking at Ryo’s. Ryo flinches from the touch, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Maru watching him like a hawk.
“I’ll talk to you later, Nishikido,” Ueda says smoothly. “Think you can handle this?” He’s pointing at the coffee on the floor, but he’s not talking about the coffee, Ryo knows that. He’s talking about… everything. About the kiss, about all the feelings, about the strange and exciting promise underlying the words talk to you later.
“Of course I can,” Ryo says, and his voice is soft but it doesn’t waver.
Ueda nods, and drops the two cups in the wastebasket. “Don’t you dare dodge my calls, Nishikido,” he says, and then he’s gone. Ryo looks down at the mess in dismay.
“Well, I’ll leave you to clean this up,” Maru says.
When Ryo’s mopped the floor and gotten as much coffee as he can off of his pants, he rejoins the other guys, who all turn to stare at him when he walks in the room. “What?”
“Fighting with Ueda again?” Yoko asks, faking a sad face. “And he didn’t even punch you?”
“What the hell kind of friend are you?” Ryo asks, grabbing a Calpis from the table and drinking it down in one gulp. It tastes like strawberries, and Ryo hopes all the lip gloss on his lips isn’t obvious to anyone but him.
“I’m going to start fangirling you guys like you’re Akakame if you don’t stop with all the intense looks and hallway brawls,” Yoko continues, as if Ryo hasn’t spoken. People have been doing that a lot, lately.
Ryo wonders if it’s possible to die of public humiliation as the implications sink in. “I don’t even know why I hang out with you guys,” Ryo says in response, and Ohkura laughs and shoves a cracker into Ryo’s mouth.
“Because we’re cool, obviously,” Ohkura says, and Subaru shoves two crackers down Ohkura’s pants as he speaks so Ohkura squawks on the last word.
Ryo’s lips still tingle, even through his laughter.
Ryo doesn’t call, or text. He just goes home and takes a shower, letting the hot water beat down on his shoulders. His hand ventures up to his own lips, and as he rests his fingertips there, he remembers the warmth of Ueda’s soft lifts against his own, and the way Ueda had tightened his hands in Ryo’s hair, and it’s…
It’s okay. It’s more than okay, Ryo thinks. It’s something he never would have thought he’d want, but it’s everything he wanted, too.
Ryo considers that Ueda might not be home, that maybe it’s kind of crazy to show up there without warning.
Well. He’s going to do it anyway.
Ueda opens the door to his flat after Ryo rings the buzzer three times. His hair is wet, too, plastered to his forehead and spiky on top, like he dried it quickly with a towel. He’s wearing gray fleece pajama pants and he’s got a towel around his neck, but drops of water linger around his clavicles. His face is fresh and clean, no mascara or make-up, and he’s still… well, Ryo would be lying if he didn’t admit Ueda was one of the most beautiful men he’d ever seen.
“I was in the shower,” Ueda says. “I almost didn’t hear the knock.”
“Fleece?” Ryo says, stepping into the flat when Ueda moves aside. “That’s surprisingly practical.”
“A Christmas gift from Nakamaru,” Ueda says. “He always gets it wrong.”
“But you’re wearing them,” Ryo says, lingering in the foyer as Ueda walks toward the living room. One of Ueda’s dogs, and Ryo thinks it’s Tia, is sniffing at him curiously, and Ryo leans forward, wondering if she’ll remember his scent. She licks at his fingers, and Ryo smiles.
“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” Ueda says. “They are pretty warm.”
“The guys thought we were fighting,” Ryo says. “Thought I was bullying you.”
“Yes,” Ueda says. “What a big bully you are.” He puts his hands on the small of his own back. It makes the muscles in his abdomen flex, and Ryo is still amazed by the play of Ueda’s muscles under his skin. “You going to come in?”
“I am in,” Ryo says, gesturing to the closed door. “What do you want from me?”
Ueda smiles, and it’s slow and hot, and different from any other smile that Ryo’s seen so far. “Hmm,” Ueda says, and the sound of his voice trickles like honey down Ryo’s spine. “That’s a…loaded question.”
Ryo finally slips out of his sneakers and steps all the way into the apartment. Ueda watches him with unblinking eyes. “I guess it is,” Ryo says, shuffling in further. Tia is running about his legs, and he can feel the pup’s cold nose even through his khakis.
“I think the real question,” Ueda says, taking the towel from about his neck and tossing it over a leather upholstered chair. “Is what do you want from me?”
“I want coffee,” Ryo blurts out. “Lots and lots of coffee.” Ueda stares at him for a moment, and Ryo can’t comprehend the look in his eyes. It’s like Ueda is trying to look through him, like he’s always seemed to be able to do, even when Ryo hadn’t thought of Ueda as anything more than a weird kid who was too sensitive for the business. It makes Ryo feel... everything. The hairs on his arms stand up with it, the emotion that’s tumbling in his stomach.
Ueda walks up to him, and lets his fingers rest lightly on Ryo’s hips, and they burn through the fabric of Ryo’s sweatshirt. “Just coffee?” Ueda asks, and his lips are ghosting across Ryo’s, and Ryo’s eyes are fluttering closed.
It’s not rushed. Ueda starts with just a light touch, and it’s Ryo who has to press forward for more, wrapping his arms around Ueda’s neck and pulling him closer, slanting his lips so that he can kiss Ueda fully. Ueda teasingly flicks his tongue against Ryo’s lips, and Ryo doesn’t hesitate to let him in, and it’s even hotter than before. Ueda licks at the inside of his mouth, tongue caressing Ryo’s. There’s no air, between them, but Ryo doesn’t care, he just wants more of that sweet taste, of honeysuckle and lavender and a hint of mint, and he wants more of Ueda’s strong hands digging into his hipbones hard enough to bruise.
When they part for a moment, Ueda doesn’t stop, just trails his lips down Ryo’s cheek, and down his neck. “Not…” Ryo tries to say, but the he’s gasping as Ueda’s lips and teeth find the sensitive spot behind his ear. Ueda grabs his earlobe between his teeth, tugging at it, and it sends a pleasant shudder through Ryo’s whole body, the kind that promises that everything is going to feel very, very good.
“Not?” Ueda prompts, as his lips descend down to Ryo’s collarbone, licking a stripe where the v-neck of his sweatshirt revealed a glimpse of skin.
“Not just coffee,” Ryo says, and he’s fighting back, shoving Ueda toward the couch. Ueda breaks away with a chuckle, walking backwards toward the sofa, and Ryo pulls his sweatshirt over his head, leaving him in just a tank. “Maybe…” Ryo’s hands reach for Ueda’s stomach, and he presses his hands firm and flat to Ueda’s abs, sliding his hands up to Ueda’s chest, and then following the muscles up to his shoulders then down his arms. Ueda’s face is calm and cool, but gooseflesh appears under Ryo’s questing hands, and it makes Ryo feel a little braver. “Maybe we can have coffee in the morning.”
“I do have a coffee pot,” Ueda whispers. “And a coffee grinder.” He hooks his hand in the front of Ryo’s pants and pulls him close again, dropping an open-mouth kiss on Ryo’s already trembling lips.
“But,” Ryo says, between wet kisses that feel like melting ice-cream under a hot summer sun. “But do you have coffee?”
“Guess you’ll find out tomorrow,” Ueda says, and Ryo finds himself laid out on the couch before he can blink, tank joining his sweatshirt on the floor.
Ryo spares a brief thought as to whether the dogs are watching, but then he forgets to wonder as Ueda’s tongue ventures out to circle his belly button. “Guess I will,” Ryo pants, and then there isn’t any more talking.
Music is a lot like stumbling into a wondrous other world.
It’s a place where Ryo can find himself and lose himself all over again, and endless cycle of destruction and renewal.
This thing with Ueda…it’s new, but Ryo thinks that it might be a little like that. Like Ueda is constantly changing the melody, and Ryo’s got to find the harmony, and maybe, somehow, they’ll make beautiful music together.
“What do you actually think of Ueda?” Yamapi asked, as they sat in the fire escape, smoking cigarettes Yamapi wasn’t old enough to be smoking. Ryo wasn’t either, but Ryo gave less of a damn if he was caught. “You were complaining about him again to Jin, but you complain about everyone.”
“What does it matter?” Ryo had asked in return, and Yamapi had shrugged, taking a puff and then choking on the smoke.
“I dunno. It’s not like you, the way you… usually your mean to us, but it’s play.”
“Honestly?” Ryo had shrugged his shoulders and looked out at the busy Tokyo street. He preferred Osaka. “I think… he could be cool. If he wasn’t so busy trying too hard. Maybe.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Yamapi had said, and Ryo had shrugged again. Yamapi would forget this conversation in a few days anyway, Ryo figured. It was always safe to tell Yamapi your secrets.
But Ryo would remember.
“I really like your hair like this,” Ryo says, and he lets his hand wander up to rub across the soft fuzz. “And I miss the bald look.”
“Oh really? Did you even see the bald look?” Ueda says sleepily, blinking hazily at Ryo, his lashes stark against pale skin.
“I watched your drama. Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.”
“If you say so,” Ueda says. “I think the only person who thinks you’ve got this tough guy reputation is you.”
“Everyone keeps saying that, but I’m happy in my delusions,” Ryo replies. “Anyway, I liked it.”
“Why?” Ueda asks, turning on his side to face Ryo. He’s still drowsy, half-awake and half-asleep.
“I dunno. Might have made me feel naughty,” Ryo says, licking his lips and smirking. “I could have pretended like I was trying to pick up a felon.” The real reason is that Ryo likes the way he can see every part of Ueda’s face, the sleek line of Ueda’s jaw and every flicker of his eyelashes, without the hair for Ueda to hide behind. But he won’t say that—he’s filled his gay quota of the day.
“How exciting that would have been for you,” Ueda says, and his amusement is thick in his gravely sleep-voice. “It’s kind of like how I liked it when you weren’t talking to me, I guess.”
“You liked that?” Ryo asks, dubious. He feels warm, but it’s not the covers—he’s half-heartedly pulled a thin cotton sheet over them. He thinks the warmth might have something to do with the way Ueda is impassively watching him now, or maybe the way the sheet reveals more of Ueda’s toned frame than it conceals. “You badgered me until I talked to you! You cornered me in a TV studio!”
“Mm, yes,” Ueda says. “Because you were hiding things, not being circumspect. And I was… confused.” Then Ueda takes a single finger and runs it down Ryo’s chest, the nail glossy and hard as it skates across the skin at Ryo’s sternum. “But I could at least pretend like I was attracted to someone who wasn’t mentally deficient. I don’t know why I like you, really I don’t.”
Ryo sputters at the insult, and he wants to make a comeback, he really does, but he’s tired, and the fading sunlight leaves a shadow against the harsh line of Ueda’s cheek. He looks a bit like a marble statue, Ryo thinks, all wiry muscle and smooth skin. He soft curve of his lips is in sharp contrast to the hard draw of his abs, and it makes it hard for Ryo to think about much but touching everywhere his hands can reach.
That’s why the words slip out without notice, before Ryo can rein them back in. “You really like me?” Ryo winces even as the question leaves his lips. He sounds kind of like a high school girl with an older boyfriend, or something; all insecure and amazed and misty-eyed. It’s embarrassing. Plus he’s pretty sure the kissing, and, well, the sex, too, was enough confirmation of ‘like’.
Ueda just looks amused, and his left hand slides down Ryo’s side, dragging sheet along with it, coming to rest on Ryo’s hip. Ryo wants to blush, or squirm, which is stupid, because they totally already had sex. But the way Ueda is staring at him now, with a real smile on his face, the one that shows all his teeth and makes his eyes sparkle… It makes Ryo feel like he’s looking directly into the sun. Ueda’s fingers burn along his skin too, and Ryo wonders if he’ll ever get used to be the subject of that intense gaze, if it’ll ever stop making him feel like his insides are simultaneously melting and freezing, if it’ll ever stop making him feel like his heart might as well beat its way out of his chest.
He hopes not.
“Yes,” Ueda says. “Against my better judgment, I like you.” Ueda’s still smiling, and it doesn’t feel like dusk anymore. It feels like Ryo is basking in the beginning of a new day. “I like you quite a lot.”
“I guess I like you a little, too” Ryo says, and then buries his face in a pillow to hide the red that crawls up his neck. It smells like Ueda—that soft scent of freshly blooming flowers, and of mysteries that might only be revealed under the moonlight. “I guess,” he mumbles, words muffled by the soft white cotton.
“You’re sweeping me off my feet,” Ueda says, and Ryo can hear the laughter in his voice. “You’re lucky I understand ‘idiot’, Nishikido.”
Ryo swallows, hard, and tries to ignore the way he feels like a hundred-thousand birds are flying about in his belly, and the way a smile is involuntarily tugging at his lips, pulling at his face despite his best efforts to contain it.
He looks over at Ueda again, and Ueda doesn’t look sleepy any longer, and Ryo is lost when he looks into those eyes. “I guess I am,” Ryo says, and Ueda laughs, and tugs him closer. “Thanks.”
“For what?” Ueda says, lips half-pressed to Ryo’s forehead.
“Learning to speak idiot,” Ryo says. “It’s a rather difficult dialect of Japanese, I’ve been told.”
“It is,” Ueda says. “But it was worth it.”
“Yeah?” Ryo asks, and his voice cracks a little on the word. Ueda’s skin is hot under his fingertips. “How worth it?”
Ryo’s fingers find Ueda’s abdominal muscles, and drag across them slowly. Ueda exhales heavily, nails digging into the skin at Ryo’s hip. “Mmm,” Ueda replies. “Why don’t you help me figure that out, Nishikido?”
Ryo takes a deep breath, and lets himself go. “With pleasure,” Ryo says, and seeks Ueda’s lips. Ueda’s mouth is like coming home, and maybe Ryo doesn’t need to be afraid of this, anymore.
Ryo’s not the best with words. But he’s always been better than show than at tell.
And right now, Ryo feels comfortable in his own skin.
“I think I might owe Kame ten-thousand yen,” Ueda says, and Ryo raises an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“He told me to ask you out for coffee,” Ueda admits. “After that first week. I was a bit nervous.”
“Are you nervous now?” Ryo teases, pressing his nose into Ueda’s downy-soft hair.
“No,” Ueda says. “I’m happy, now.”
“Someone looks happy,” Ohkura says, and Subaru snorts into his coffee.
“Someone looks like he got laid,” Subaru says, and Ryo hides his face in his hands.
“You guys suck so much,” Ryo says, and Ohkura laughs, and Yoko cackles gleefully.
“So is that a yes on the getting laid?” Yoko asks, leaning in far too close for Ryo’s comfort. “Did Yellow Ranger finally get his girl?”
Later, Ohkura corners Ryo as he checks his cell phone for the eightieth time since he’d come into work, putting a hand on Ryo’s shoulder. “So things worked out?” Ohkura asks, and Ryo purses his mouth. “Good.”
“I didn’t even say anything,” Ryo replies, scowling when there’s no message from Ueda. He wonders if he’s supposed to start calling him Tatsuya. Ryo can’t really imagine doing that, really. Ueda is Ueda, whether Ryo’s sucking his cock now or not.
“Love looks good on you, Ryo-chan,” Ohkura says, mimicking the way Yamapi says his name. Ryo shoves at him half-heartedly.
“Shut up,” Ryo mumbles, and Ohkura laughs again. “Oh my god, I’m not in love. You guys suck so much.”
“Now write some love songs in that little yellow notebook of yours, or something,” Ohkura says, and Ryo thinks that might be easier, now.
His phone buzzes. Coffee? is all the message says, and Ryo’s smile pulls on his lips, and he doesn’t care that he probably looks like a total sap.
absolutely, Ryo writes back.
Music is a lot like falling in love. That moment when all the notes fall into the correct place, the melody sweet and clear, heart singing and soaring and flying.
Ueda’s hand finds Ryo’s in the dark, and Ryo thinks these, these, are finally all the right notes. He thinks he’s found Ueda’s key.
Ryo’s thumb caresses Ueda’s slowly. “I think this is our song,” Ueda says, and Ryo can’t help but agree.
And under Ueda’s gaze, Ryo’s unfolding like a butterfly.
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no subject
Date: 2012-01-01 10:31 pm (UTC)I am still in a state of shock knowing that you wrote such a fantastic Ryoda. And.. I don't praise people often. Joo will know. When a story is crap, I don't hesitate to call it so. And this is a masterpiece. It has everything I ever wanted from a Ryoda that is definitely not you hello-stereotypical girly!Ueda and bastard!Ryo. The music stuff that runs through the whole fic gives it an additional layer and I loved that you used music specifically for Ryoda because it's so them . Ryo is always more comfortable, imo, with a guitar in hand than with people in general. Ueda communicates a lot better through his music as well. I loved the banter between the two. It was good banter and I really liked that Ueda fights back.
AND OF COURSE I LOVE YOUR KAME CAMEO.
IS THIS WHAT YOU TRY TO BLURT OUT TO ME THE OTHER DAY? AND SAID THAT YOU COULDN'T SAY. IS THIS? IS THIS? /SHAKES YOU
KAME KAME KAME THE MATCHMAKER. KAME KAME KAME, THIS STORY IS PERFECT BECAUSE I AM A KAMETARD AND KAME KAME KAME BEING ESSENTIAL TO A PLOT MAKES JESSIE VERY VERY VERY HAPPY. PLEASE KEEP WRITING KAME INTO EVERYTHING.
I am gonna re-read this and might add on to this comment later (cough 6am cough) to tell you how much I loved it and WHY. But for now just know you I really loved this okay <3
no subject
Date: 2012-01-01 10:40 pm (UTC)YAY!!!!!
>.> Although I've written Ryo/Shige, this was my first time to write Ryo as the POV character! And Oh! What fun it is. <3 <3
I'M SO GLAD YOU SEE RYO LIKE I SEE RYO. SO SHY. SO UNCOMFORTABLE. SO AWKWARD.
There's not much girly about Ueda IMHO. I think people see his face, and his fashion choices SOMETIMES (he's a Johnny, they're mostly a flamboyant bunch) but he's super masculine and I can't really jive with a characterization of him that's not reflective of that.
DIALOGUE IS THE MOST FUN TO WRITE. ALWAYS.
KAMEKAMEKAMEKAMEKAMEKAME (do you believe me about this yet?!)
ILU <3 <3
no subject
Date: 2012-01-02 06:03 pm (UTC)I ship Ryoshige. It was like my 6 nin NEWS OTP or something. ("Your hair is ugly, cut it." and then they start telling all the magazines how they look up to each other. LIKE WHAT. JUST CONFESS YOUR LOVE TO EACH OTHER ALREADY).
I think I have said it but I still like your Ryo :) The fact that he PRETENDS to be all cool when he is totally not <3. PLEASE WRITE MORE RYO. /SPARKLES AT YOU
RYO CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT HIS FEMALE CO STARS IN THE EYE. HOW IS THAT NOT AWKWARD. AND THEN AND THEN WHEN THEY MAKE HIM DO EMBRASSING STUFF AND HE IS LIKE I DUN WANNA DO. AND THEN HE HAS A KID POUT. AND HE WHINES. AND THEN HE TRIES TO FIND A PLACE TO LASH OUT AT PEOPLE TO DIVERT ATTEN (NOT WORKING FOR ME BOY NOT WORKING). SO ADORABLE *___*
I always liked a good story with a good Ueda in it. He is always very fascinating to me because I really want to know what is in his head. He seems to have a very well formed world inside his head, and I always wanted to see it. It's like WTF IS INSIDE THERE THAT MADE YOU WRITE SONGS LIKE NEETO MAN.
KAME KAME KAME KAME. (Maybe.) MORE KAME FOR JESSIE PRZ. AND I LOVE YOUR KAME ANYWAY.
COME LEMME LEAVE YOU A HUGE ASS COMMENT TO SHOW MY APPRECIATION FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL THING.
Music is a lot like life, for Ryo.
The moment I read this line, somehow I knew I would love the story. I just knew okay. And I was right <3
“Yo,” says a nasal voice on the other end. “It’s Kamenashi.”
I LEGIT SCREAMED. #kamefangirlwhat Basically my head was all KAME KAME KAME. AND NASAL KAME. MY HEART. I think I am totally missing the point of this fic rn, Whatever. Kame is always relevant
Ryo sighs with relief, and then smiles. “Kame? Did Johnny let you out of your cage to get some sunlight, or what?”
AND OF COURSE RYO CANNOT EXPRESS HIS RELIEF IN PROPER HUMAN WAYS.
“Hey now, I have some free time, Ryo. Just less than other people do. Besides, you’re one to talk. Or did you not just sigh with relief that I wasn’t your manager?”
AND KAME FIGHTS BACK. RYOKAME ILU. MAIA WRITE RYOKAME NOW. NEED. BEST IF THEY BANTER IN BED.
Talking to Kamenashi is easy, because for all that Kame is smooth in front of the cameras, he’s just as shy and uncomfortable as Ryo is when the camera lights go dim
dsfjdkfdksfjdshfdsjkfhdsksdf AWKWARD!TURTLE X AWKWARD!RYOCHAN WHAT. IS. THIS. LOVE. I. CANNOT. <33333333333333333333333333333333
THE WHOLE THING ABOUT JE STUDIO ROOMS. GOD IT SOUNDS SO TRUE. IT'S LIKE OF COURSE KT RECORDS IN THE BLACK ROOM. AND EITO HAS THE BRIGHTEST ROOM - WHICH THEY TRY TO DESTORY. OF COURSE.
“It’s winter,” Ryo says. “Why the hell are you wearing shorts?”
RYO SAY HI. HIIIIIIIIIII. /sighs RYO CHAN YOU FAIL AT SOCIAL INTERACTION
“I was in a group with Jin for over eight years,” Ueda says, smiling grimly. “You won’t even be a challenge.”
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA. JIN. HAHAHAHHAHAHA.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-02 06:05 pm (UTC)RYO YOU NEED TO HAVE EMOTION LESSONS. GOD I LOVE YOUR RYO.
“Why should I apologize?” Ryo says. “We were kids. We’re just going to work together for a week, and then it will be over.”
“This is Johnny’s Entertainment,” Yoko says. “Nothing is ever over.”
Did i tell you how much I love your characterisations of everyone. And esp where K8 totally tells Ryo how he is a horrible person to Ueda. AND SUBARU'S EVERYTHING YOU DO IS AWKWARD. WHAT IS THIS K8 TOUGH LOVE. YOKOHINA TOTALLY ARE THE PARENTS OF K8 OKAY. AND RYO IS THE BRAT.
It’s a backstage photo of himself and Uchi, and Ryo’s wearing a yellow sparkly suit with terrible fringe, and Uchi’s wearing something similar. He runs his fingers over his own face, over the costume and over the obvious television studio equipment.
RYOUCHI. HOW CAN YOU SNEAK IN SO MANY THINGS INSIDE ONE LITTLE FIC MAIA. HOW. OMG. And I liked that you explored a little of Ryo's insecurities in this part too. It makes the character a lot more whole and interesting.
Kame’s song is about being comfortable in your own skin.
I LAUGHED. MAIA YOU ARE A GENIUS. AND I WON'T BE SURPRISED IF KAME REALLY WROTE A SONG LIKE THIS. IT'S LIKE. SO KAME.
“You like it,” Ueda says, after a moment, backing up and leaning against the doorway. “Why do you have to be such an asshole about everything?”
YEAH. WHY. BECAUSE UEDA SAMA IS A LOT MORE MATURE EMOTIONALL THAN YOU ARE RYOCHAN. I don't want to quote the whole conversation but YES at Ueda fighting back. And Ryo of course would stick in something of his own to try to dispel whatever he is feeling because that is his natural defense mechanism. I told someone that I think Ryo is like this porcupine that becomes spiky when threatended. But everyone still finds him adorable. And wants to poke at him.
There are friends like Kame, who seem like they’re made up entirely of wrong notes, but when you actually open your mouth and belt it out, the whole thing sounds pretty good—nothing if not interesting, and certainly not as cacophonous as had been previously expected.
KAME. I know I am totally missing the pt here okay But.. yeah. I was like, YEAH, that is totally how Ryo would see Kame. Anyway, I really liked this part coz it actually made me think about the r/s between Ryo and his frens. And how he sees them and.. just a whole bunch of very introspective things.
“I think you both have a lot to offer as songwriters. I want you to bring out the best in each other, not the worst.” Kame sounds disappointed. “This song is important to me."
KAME GUILTTRIPPING RYO. I SEE THIS HAPPENING. BECAUSE KAME IS A BASTARD LIKE THAT. AND HE KNOWS HOW TO DO THINGS HIS WAY. AND KAME TOTALLY BEING UNSYMPATHETIC TO RYO'S RANTS ABOUT UEDA. SO MUCH. THEY NEED TO HAVE MORE PHONE CALLS TOGETHER.
“You owe him an apology,” Yamapi had said, testing out his ‘leader voice.’
YAMAPI'S LEADER VOICE. Omg you even had KOYAMA in this. WHAT. FIRST YOU WRITE ME KAME. THEN YOU HAD K8. UCHI. NOW NEWS> WHAT IS THIS AWESOMENESS>
“My time is valuable. Don’t waste it. You should have called.” Ryo curls his hand too tightly around the neck of his guitar.
jksdfhdsfhdk HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT ONE OF MY FAVE THINGS ABOUT RYO IS HOW HE IS ALL ABOUT TIME. AND NOT WASTING THEM. Of course this was set against more of annoying Ueda backdrop but still. YES. I hate how people don't usually talk about how professional Ryo is and how he hates his time being wasted. So YES to this.
“It’s not my fault you look like a lady,” Ryo gasps, because he doesn’t want to fold just like that, and Ueda’s clenched fist pushes into his clavicle, fabric still caught in his hand.
AND UEDA PUNCHES RYO. I. LOVED IT. Because Ueda punched everyone in KT before, there is NO. WAY. he would not have punched Ryo with his uncensored mouth.
But now, I know exactly who I am, Nishikido. And you won’t change that, no matter how much you don’t like me.”
GOD. Did you just summarised Ueda's growth as a human in one line. It's like.. one of those things that I have always knew but never put it in words. And you did it for me *_________*
TIRED. BRB WITH MOAR.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-05 07:47 pm (UTC)#hasalotofwork #shdntevenhavetimetodothis
or why Massu is allowed to dress himself
I SEE THAT JUDGEMENT I DO. I giggled basically
Music, for Ryo, is about finding a place to belong.
<3 I don't know if I have said this or not but I really liked your fic managed to kind of weave together the various.. layers/aspects of Ryo and made it look natural. I think that is really skillful :D And... Ryo and music forever OTP #playingcodeasbgmrn
It’s not like they’re going to suddenly be friends or anything,
Go on, keep telling yourself that
No, Ryo-chan, it doesn’t suck.”
My brain did a mental squee at RYOCHAN. KAME CALLING RYO RYOCHAN OMG SO CUTE.
Kame’s tongue peeks out to wet his lips
KAME KAME KAME. THIS IS TOTALLY A KAME HABIT. YES YES YES #gettinghighoverwrongthings #why #weird
“I am literally unable to get coffee with you right now.”
I was super amused at how Ryo had to EXPLICITLY explain himself. And god, the both of them need to stop assuming things. But why do I find this so adorable. #squee
“Lame,” Ohkura says. “Other plans? Don’t pretend like you have friends.”
I was bursting with glee with Kura appeared. #k8biaswhat AND I LAUGHED AT THE LINE. Why are you such a genius. Ryochan has friends okay! And of course, friendships around Ryo are all love-in-a-hard-way :D
“Sometimes talking to you is like talking to a toddler,” Ueda says. “Incomplete thoughts and half-formed sentences.”
I love how Ueda just keeps calling him out on his immaturity. Part of me keeps going YAY FOR REVENGE.
“You’ve disappeared off the face of the planet,” Uchi tells him, and Ryo thinks he sounds like he’s pouting. “Like, no one’s talked to you, which means you’re talking to someone else. As much as you like to pretend you could live alone in a cave, you get bored easily, so you must be getting your entertainment elsewhere.”
AND UCHI. UCHI UCHI. YOU HAVE EVERYONE IN IT DO YOU #waytooexcitedabttheextras
“Yes,” Ueda says. “It’s all coming together thanks to Kame’s Machiavellian schemes.”
MACHIAVELLIAN. HA. #insidejoketoself #theprince #bettertobefeared
The ringing of his alarm is out of place. Ryo’s eyes snap open, and he’s alone. It’s his own hand that’s wrapped around his softening erection, and he can feel his release sticky on his stomach.
AND THEN HE HAS A WET DREAM. WHAT. WHY IS THIS FIC SO AWESOME. RYO FINALLY ADMITS (SOMEWHAT). HORRRAY.
Okay I need to start to get ready for bed. :D TBC?
no subject
Date: 2012-04-28 02:28 pm (UTC)“It feels wrong having this conversation in a bar,” Okhura muses. “Maybe we should be on the playground instead, because I swear I haven't had a conversation like this since elementary school.”"
I love all the Ohkura- Ryo interactions okay. They are hilarious. And Kura is totally being mean to Ryo. And I like it. And Ryo your emotional state is in elementary school. Despite what your wet dreams tell you :D
“What do you think about butterflies?
1. Jessie loves butterflies 2. Jessie likes the usage of butterflies to describe Ueda's me, growth. 3. Butterfly is a Ueda/Jin duet.
“What did you do?” Kame says into the phone,
KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAME. AND LOOKING LIKE BAMBI WHEN HIS MUM DIED AHAAHA.
“Besides,” Kame says, as if Ryo hasn’t spoken. “No one really thinks you’re tough, anyway.”
I like how this is an ongoing trend where everyone tells Ryo that he is not as cool as he think he is, but Ryo insists that he is.
“Leave me alone!” Ryo says. “Just…don’t text me anymore. I’m tired of it.”
URGH RYO.
If there’s anything Ryo is exceptionally talented in, that’s not, you know, playing the guitar and trolling, it is sulking.
RYO YOU KING OF SULKING.
“I think, sometimes, you get scared of feeling things. So scared that you miss important stuff.”
“Important stuff?” Ryo queries, and Uchi nods seriously, his hair flopping into his face.
“Yeah,” Uchi says. “Like that… other people are scared of feeling stuff too.”
This little exchange is kind of inspiring.
Ueda held the cookie up to his nose and sniffed. “Is it poisoned?” Ryo huffed.
OKAY WHAT IS THIS. Ryo buys Ueda cookies as a peace offerings. COOOKIES. HAHAHAHAHA. And of course Ueda might be worried that it's poisoned.
“Meet me for coffee tomorrow,” Ueda says. “During lunch time.”
In the end, Ueda takes the initative. GO UEDA. Ryo you are terrible.
“You’re so short you need a ladder to reach manhood,” Yoko says
AHAAHAHAHA. SHORT JOKES. AND A GOOD ONE AT IT. HAHAH.
“What’re you looking at, beanstalk?”
RYO YOU ARE NOT JACK.
pulls out a pack of high-chew.
HELLO LOLTASTIC K8 AD.
“Oh,” Ueda says, and then he laughs
GO ON KEEP LAUGHING, I approve. And then they kiss and there is coffee over and.. just <3
Ryo’s world is upside down and Ueda’s worried if coffee is going to stain his jeans
I approve of Ueda's priorities :D
“It’s hideous. It looks like something Matsumoto would wear…during an Arashi concert.”
HELLO JUN REFERENCES. I love your fics. Because KAME AND JUN REFERENCES. <3
“Me?!” Ryo squawks, indignant. “Why is it my fault?”
“It’s always your fault,” Maru say
Yep Maru. It's always your fault :D
“A Christmas gift from Nakamaru,” Ueda says. “He always gets it wrong.”
MARUDA :D
“I want coffee,” Ryo blurts out. “Lots and lots of coffee.
Ryo, you fail even till the last minute >.< SAY YOU Like UEDA. NOT I WANT COFFEE, as much I get that coffee is kind of like symbolism but GOD RYO JUST SAY IT.
“If you say so,” Ueda says. “I think the only person who thinks you’ve got this tough guy reputation is you.”
/nodnod
But I could at least pretend like I was attracted to someone who wasn’t mentally deficient. I don’t know why I like you, really I don’t.”
MENTALLY DEFICIENT. Ueda oh Ueda <3
“I think I might owe Kame ten-thousand yen,” Ueda says, and Ryo raises an eyebrow.
KAME THE MATCHMAKER. KAME KAME KAME.
And under Ueda’s gaze, Ryo’s unfolding like a butterfly.
Butterflies :D
AND I AM FINALLY DONE. I am sorry the last part took so long. And god Kazuya just had to freeze on me. But <3 Here's the extent of my love for this fic okay <3 I love you :D
no subject
Date: 2012-01-06 10:16 am (UTC)this by far is the nicest ryoda fic i've read...thanks for sharing.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 11:01 pm (UTC)thank you for sharing ,)
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Date: 2012-02-19 12:32 am (UTC)Thank you for sharing this!!
no subject
Date: 2012-02-26 09:14 am (UTC)A new favourite of mine.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-19 02:27 pm (UTC)*skipping school bc i'm "sick", but reading all ur fics LOL*
no subject
Date: 2012-07-22 06:53 pm (UTC)thanks for writing
no subject
Date: 2012-07-30 01:33 pm (UTC)