dictionarysays (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dictionarysays) wrote2010-09-08 12:19 pm
dictionarysays) wrote2010-09-08 12:19 pm
(SMAP) The Month Kimura Nearly Threw His Phone into Tokyo Bay (Part 2)
The Month Kimura Nearly Threw His Phone into Tokyo Bay
Tsuyoshi/Kimura | PG-13 | Part 2
Shingo finally breaks the silence, slapping his big hands on the table with a bam.
“I get it.” Kimura raises an eyebrow at that. Shingo’s mouth suddenly breaks out into a huge bright smile, “You’re so cool! That takes a lot of courage, ne? I couldn’t do that, I mean, it’s not that we talk about anything special but I try to keep it normal. Even though, Tsuyopon still finds the time to apologize as much as he can in one phone call. He’s so silly.” Shingo laughs it off but his affection tinkles at the edges.
Kimura breathes out from his nose, a strange smile playing around his lips. He doesn’t think he’s being nearly as noble as Shingo thinks he is. He grabs for Shingo’s wineglass now and takes a swig from that, smirking at the hands that try to stop him.
Kimura spares a glance around the restaurant as Shingo chatters on about a fight scene he had a few days ago. Kimura’s listening with half of his face; the other half is taking in the low lights and red upholstery. There’s only a few other patrons, most of them old couples from the distance that appears to exist but when Kimura looks a little closer, the twined pinkies and irrevocably soft smiles tell of dates from long ago and leftover dinners past.
Goro-chan was the first to take him to this place, he loves his western food and he knows how Kimura feels about well-made pasta in meat sauce. The second time he came was with Goro-chan again, but they brought along Nakai that time and had him in grateful awe by the time dessert was served. Through word of mouth (mostly Nakai’s), Tsuyoshi’s interest was up and it was the third time around that Kimura brought him here.
Kimura remembers Tsuyoshi having a hard time choosing an entrée and instead of his mouth twisting out of annoyance like Kimura’s would, his brows furrowed into concentration and he’d keep shooting him an apologetic smile over the top of his menu. Kimura didn’t mind, how could he after a look like that? He ended up ordering a simple lasagne dish (‘I’m sorry... I did all that agonizing for nothing, ne?’), but the expression on his face after the first bite was anything but. Kimura was pleased and their dinner had ended smoothly (Tsuyoshi couldn’t resist dessert either).
He distinctly remembers the delicate hand Tsuyoshi curved around his elbow (he was wearing a short-sleeve that night so he was aware of the underworked pads of Tsuyopon’s fingers and every fingernail that rubbed against the inside of his arm) as he urged (ultimately led) him into the first cab that pulled over. Kimura tried offering, even explained sharing the ride, but they were going opposite ways (thinking back on it, he almost wishes they weren’t), so Tsuyoshi smiled his tender smile as he eventually had to push Kimura into the backseat (Kimura was too shocked to laugh and Tsuyoshi could tell—his smile faded into a low chuckle that settled in Kimura’s stomach like he settled into the seat). Tsuyoshi told the driver his address and waved him off, promising to send a mail when he got his own cab (he shut the door on Kimura’s opposition, nearly dismembering his arm, and leaving him to sigh and swear to himself and the cab-driver who was fairly amused).
“You even listening?” Shingo leans over and jabs at Kimura’s collarbone (it was sticking out from his unusual v-neck); Kimura mumbles an ‘oi’ and smacks it away. “I know you stopped listening minutes ago but I thought if I kept talking you’d eventually cut me off. But how about yooou? How’s Mr. Brain going? Your hair’s longer than ever.” Kimura knows (mostly hopes) that Shingo can tell he’s grateful for the change in subject (in his heart of hearts he knows Shingo knows he has something on his mind, but Shingo lets it go).
Shingo reaches and rubs the fine ends of Kimura’s hair between his index and thumb, Kimura smiles and smirks (in some way, at the same time), “It’s going good, everyone’s pretty nice, I do a lot of running around though. You’d like it. My sense of fashion is mildly strange in it.” Shingo gives Kimura a once over that says ‘I can tell’ and he returns it with a forced scowl half grin that says ‘shut up’.
The rest of the dinner goes on like this, Shingo takes the time to repeatedly poke and prod Kimura when he thinks he’s not listening. Kimura frowns and tries to act angry every time but the shadow of a laugh around his mouth doesn’t get by Shingo and he has him recite everything he’s said—just in case. Kimura goes along with it because he has nothing better to do (and Shingo has the admirable ease to bring up Tsuyoshi from time to time (‘Tsuyopon said something about that actually,’ ‘I don’t think I’d mind, Tsuyopon probably would though, ne?’) and it boggles Kimura’s mind and keeps him listening).
“I got it—”
“You do?” Kimura laughs through his nose at the surprise and rarely regulated eagerness written all over Shingo’s face when Kimura pays the bill.
“Yeah. I didn’t listen, so I’ll pay.”
“At all?” Kimura shrugs, half of it in response to his question, half of it to get into his coat. “But you summarized everything I said!”
“I've known you how long, Shingo-kun? I’d know what you talked about if I was in Alaska.” Shingo makes a face (they both know it means nothing) and it’s nearly midnight when the two finally leave the restaurant; the night air is cool so Kimura stuffs his hands in his coat’s big pockets—Shingo goes out of his way to do a jig (‘I’ll be warmer than you in no time, Kimura-kun!’).
Shingo wants to walk home but Kimura won’t have any of that (‘No one’s going to rape my tall ass.’), so he ends up walking with Shingo instead, (they live the same way anyway) and make their way across town—Shingo points out things and Kimura manoeuvres him around drunks by the sleeve of his jacket.
“Kimura-kun,” Kimura hums, not looking Shingo’s way, but listening all the same. They start to cross the street, there are no cars. “Y’think things will go back to being the same? Once Tsuyopon’s back?” Shingo’s question is sincere and supported by a high-pitched cackle that streams out from a bar across the street, which makes it that much harder for Kimura to avoid his look, focusing in on the cracks in the pavement instead, his walk never missing a beat.
“Probably not. Things changed after Goro’s, didn’t they?” Kimura feels Shingo’s nod more than he sees it. “Knowing us, we’ll come out of it stronger than ever though and for the better too.” Kimura can’t stop his arm that slings across Shingo’s shoulders, the movement so easy he smiles at a smiling-even-more Shingo. He tousles his hair good naturedly, murmuring, “Don’t worry, kid.”
Shingo laughs, unabashed, “I’m not. You’re the one who is.” Kimura’s smile softens, he pinches Shingo’s arm but his stomach’s tight—because Shingo’s so right.
Kimura is swamped with work (rehearsals early in the morning, shooting ‘til the moonlight filters into the studio, then sleep—everything seems to just repeat itself), but he still thinks about Tsuyoshi. He finds his thoughts wandering at the most inopportune times; halfway through a scene where he’s supposed to laugh out loud, in preparation for a meeting while he’s skimming through the itinerary; and the worst—right before bed, when he’s all but exhausted but his brain won’t stop whirring.
It has nothing to do with the phone calls—those are now few and far between and he’s (nearly) gotten used to the vibrating. His hands still clench and his heart speeds up, but he quickly distracts himself with the script or a colleague (‘aren’t you going to get that?’), enough that he stops feeling bad (kind of not really).
His sheets are cool around his mostly naked skin (he’s never gotten the courage to slip out of his briefs—there’s something incredibly vulnerable about the whole thing), he flips his pillow over for the umpteenth time—he can’t stop. He grunts, rubbing his face tiredly (his palms are clammy) and stares up at the dark ceiling—Kimura hates that his eyes are adjusting to the blackness. His body is sore from the shooting earlier, he likes doing his own stunts but his brain just won’t shut the hell up.
Every time he blinks, it’s not the ceiling he sees but an image, fuzzy, and from the past.
Part 3
Tsuyoshi/Kimura | PG-13 | Part 2
Shingo finally breaks the silence, slapping his big hands on the table with a bam.
“I get it.” Kimura raises an eyebrow at that. Shingo’s mouth suddenly breaks out into a huge bright smile, “You’re so cool! That takes a lot of courage, ne? I couldn’t do that, I mean, it’s not that we talk about anything special but I try to keep it normal. Even though, Tsuyopon still finds the time to apologize as much as he can in one phone call. He’s so silly.” Shingo laughs it off but his affection tinkles at the edges.
Kimura breathes out from his nose, a strange smile playing around his lips. He doesn’t think he’s being nearly as noble as Shingo thinks he is. He grabs for Shingo’s wineglass now and takes a swig from that, smirking at the hands that try to stop him.
Kimura spares a glance around the restaurant as Shingo chatters on about a fight scene he had a few days ago. Kimura’s listening with half of his face; the other half is taking in the low lights and red upholstery. There’s only a few other patrons, most of them old couples from the distance that appears to exist but when Kimura looks a little closer, the twined pinkies and irrevocably soft smiles tell of dates from long ago and leftover dinners past.
Goro-chan was the first to take him to this place, he loves his western food and he knows how Kimura feels about well-made pasta in meat sauce. The second time he came was with Goro-chan again, but they brought along Nakai that time and had him in grateful awe by the time dessert was served. Through word of mouth (mostly Nakai’s), Tsuyoshi’s interest was up and it was the third time around that Kimura brought him here.
Kimura remembers Tsuyoshi having a hard time choosing an entrée and instead of his mouth twisting out of annoyance like Kimura’s would, his brows furrowed into concentration and he’d keep shooting him an apologetic smile over the top of his menu. Kimura didn’t mind, how could he after a look like that? He ended up ordering a simple lasagne dish (‘I’m sorry... I did all that agonizing for nothing, ne?’), but the expression on his face after the first bite was anything but. Kimura was pleased and their dinner had ended smoothly (Tsuyoshi couldn’t resist dessert either).
He distinctly remembers the delicate hand Tsuyoshi curved around his elbow (he was wearing a short-sleeve that night so he was aware of the underworked pads of Tsuyopon’s fingers and every fingernail that rubbed against the inside of his arm) as he urged (ultimately led) him into the first cab that pulled over. Kimura tried offering, even explained sharing the ride, but they were going opposite ways (thinking back on it, he almost wishes they weren’t), so Tsuyoshi smiled his tender smile as he eventually had to push Kimura into the backseat (Kimura was too shocked to laugh and Tsuyoshi could tell—his smile faded into a low chuckle that settled in Kimura’s stomach like he settled into the seat). Tsuyoshi told the driver his address and waved him off, promising to send a mail when he got his own cab (he shut the door on Kimura’s opposition, nearly dismembering his arm, and leaving him to sigh and swear to himself and the cab-driver who was fairly amused).
“You even listening?” Shingo leans over and jabs at Kimura’s collarbone (it was sticking out from his unusual v-neck); Kimura mumbles an ‘oi’ and smacks it away. “I know you stopped listening minutes ago but I thought if I kept talking you’d eventually cut me off. But how about yooou? How’s Mr. Brain going? Your hair’s longer than ever.” Kimura knows (mostly hopes) that Shingo can tell he’s grateful for the change in subject (in his heart of hearts he knows Shingo knows he has something on his mind, but Shingo lets it go).
Shingo reaches and rubs the fine ends of Kimura’s hair between his index and thumb, Kimura smiles and smirks (in some way, at the same time), “It’s going good, everyone’s pretty nice, I do a lot of running around though. You’d like it. My sense of fashion is mildly strange in it.” Shingo gives Kimura a once over that says ‘I can tell’ and he returns it with a forced scowl half grin that says ‘shut up’.
The rest of the dinner goes on like this, Shingo takes the time to repeatedly poke and prod Kimura when he thinks he’s not listening. Kimura frowns and tries to act angry every time but the shadow of a laugh around his mouth doesn’t get by Shingo and he has him recite everything he’s said—just in case. Kimura goes along with it because he has nothing better to do (and Shingo has the admirable ease to bring up Tsuyoshi from time to time (‘Tsuyopon said something about that actually,’ ‘I don’t think I’d mind, Tsuyopon probably would though, ne?’) and it boggles Kimura’s mind and keeps him listening).
“I got it—”
“You do?” Kimura laughs through his nose at the surprise and rarely regulated eagerness written all over Shingo’s face when Kimura pays the bill.
“Yeah. I didn’t listen, so I’ll pay.”
“At all?” Kimura shrugs, half of it in response to his question, half of it to get into his coat. “But you summarized everything I said!”
“I've known you how long, Shingo-kun? I’d know what you talked about if I was in Alaska.” Shingo makes a face (they both know it means nothing) and it’s nearly midnight when the two finally leave the restaurant; the night air is cool so Kimura stuffs his hands in his coat’s big pockets—Shingo goes out of his way to do a jig (‘I’ll be warmer than you in no time, Kimura-kun!’).
Shingo wants to walk home but Kimura won’t have any of that (‘No one’s going to rape my tall ass.’), so he ends up walking with Shingo instead, (they live the same way anyway) and make their way across town—Shingo points out things and Kimura manoeuvres him around drunks by the sleeve of his jacket.
“Kimura-kun,” Kimura hums, not looking Shingo’s way, but listening all the same. They start to cross the street, there are no cars. “Y’think things will go back to being the same? Once Tsuyopon’s back?” Shingo’s question is sincere and supported by a high-pitched cackle that streams out from a bar across the street, which makes it that much harder for Kimura to avoid his look, focusing in on the cracks in the pavement instead, his walk never missing a beat.
“Probably not. Things changed after Goro’s, didn’t they?” Kimura feels Shingo’s nod more than he sees it. “Knowing us, we’ll come out of it stronger than ever though and for the better too.” Kimura can’t stop his arm that slings across Shingo’s shoulders, the movement so easy he smiles at a smiling-even-more Shingo. He tousles his hair good naturedly, murmuring, “Don’t worry, kid.”
Shingo laughs, unabashed, “I’m not. You’re the one who is.” Kimura’s smile softens, he pinches Shingo’s arm but his stomach’s tight—because Shingo’s so right.
Kimura is swamped with work (rehearsals early in the morning, shooting ‘til the moonlight filters into the studio, then sleep—everything seems to just repeat itself), but he still thinks about Tsuyoshi. He finds his thoughts wandering at the most inopportune times; halfway through a scene where he’s supposed to laugh out loud, in preparation for a meeting while he’s skimming through the itinerary; and the worst—right before bed, when he’s all but exhausted but his brain won’t stop whirring.
It has nothing to do with the phone calls—those are now few and far between and he’s (nearly) gotten used to the vibrating. His hands still clench and his heart speeds up, but he quickly distracts himself with the script or a colleague (‘aren’t you going to get that?’), enough that he stops feeling bad (kind of not really).
His sheets are cool around his mostly naked skin (he’s never gotten the courage to slip out of his briefs—there’s something incredibly vulnerable about the whole thing), he flips his pillow over for the umpteenth time—he can’t stop. He grunts, rubbing his face tiredly (his palms are clammy) and stares up at the dark ceiling—Kimura hates that his eyes are adjusting to the blackness. His body is sore from the shooting earlier, he likes doing his own stunts but his brain just won’t shut the hell up.
Every time he blinks, it’s not the ceiling he sees but an image, fuzzy, and from the past.
Part 3
no subject
I LOLed at the SMAP link about the restaurant: Goro >>> Takuya >>> Nakai >>> Tsuyoshi >>> Shingo. No matter how different they are in personalities, practically living together for 20 odd years has influenced them to rub off on each other. XD (Part of me is so amused cause this is such an accurate mimic of real life. The SMAP members always coincidentally meet in the same places. Once Shingo actually bumped into Goro three times in a day XD). And, I love the TakuTsu moment (how adorable is Tsuyoshi, apologetic and blissful, and the cab scene was just <333). Also love the tiny TakuGoro hint and the fact that Takuya is so distracted by Tsuyoshi (and also how it is Tsuyoshi's name that helps Takuya bring his wandering mind back to the conversation). Hehe...
And if your Shingo-bias brings us such cute ShinTaku moments, I'm all for it. *laughs and waves pompoms* I absolutely love your portrayal of Shingo: a really good balance of seriousness and hilarity, of mature and adult intuition and perception, yet still with a hint of cute childishness. The whole conversation between Takuya and Shingo had me giggling, and:
“I've known you how long, Shingo-kun? I’d know what you talked about if I was in Alaska.”
that was just pure ♥♥♥
His sheets are cool around his mostly naked skin (he’s never gotten the courage to slip out of his briefs—there’s something incredibly vulnerable about the whole thing)
Your details are amazing. This, this sentence just got to me because something so simple you made it that much deeper by adding another layer, a titbit of Takuya's personality. This entire moment as Takuya lies on the edge of slumber is just <333
no subject
Hahaha, you know SMAP will always end up seeing somebody else in SMAP, no matter where they go (I remember Shingo talking about that incident! It also reminds me of Goro recently talking about seeing Nakai at the golf club and I just d'aww'd when he said that him and Nakai were all oh at first then yeah and that was the extent of their convo' before going different ways--the awkward, I love it). It's cool to read that was a pretty accurate mimic of real life, I mean, these boys have been together far to long for things like this not to happen. Ah! The TakuTsu moment-thing. Yeah, I admit, that honestly wrote itself, I wasn't planning for it but in five minutes, I looked back at what I had written and suddenly there was this whole memory. I like it too. I'm also a sucker for Tsuyopon being all gentle and smiles and underworked fingers (more of a sucker when Kim' notices it ;D). Hahah, yeah, Kim's mind is all Tsuyopon, as much as he ain't prepared to admit it. xD
/WAVES POMPOMS TOO
Yosh. I'm in love with the thought of you loving my Shingo because my god whole time I was writing it I kept thinking, is this right? Is he being too stupid here? Waaaait, would he even say that?. But personally, I like to think ShinTaku are really close, I think it certainly helps that Shingo looks up to Kim' and has admitted it himself that with him he'll think sometimes, Kimura's so cool, I feel like I'm falling in love with him (YEAH, I KNOW!! I'M SORRY, IS THAT A 'FIC PROMPT OR WHAT?).
Edge of slumber Kim' was fun to write, it came out of nowhere (like a ridiculous amount of this 'fic did) but you catching the little details makes it worth it. :)
Um and okay, so like, THANKS. Because I haven't said that yet this post but if you read between the lines, I'm totally saying THANKS every single line. /SMILES
no subject
(I just~ aw~~~ I totally love the way they all view SMAP. I mean, Shingo was only 10/11 when he first joined, so he was all like, "I don't know any Katori Shingo other than Katori Shingo of SMAP". Then, there's Tsuyoshi's "SMAP means that I'm not alone". <333)
And thank you~ XD It is mutual adoration really cause your fic just gave me so much food for thought. It just prompted me to consider the implications of certain actions/reactions, thoughts and personalities. ♥ I especially love that it was done as a ShinTaku moment (in this chappie in particular) because GODS, the younger brother/older brother dynamics is so well explored and contrasted with the "we're both members and I know you". *gushes*
*.* Thank you for the delicious reminder. XD I totally cracked up reading your comment because OMG, how could I have forgotten the adorable awkwardness (NakaGoro, you never fail to amuse me XP). They know they love each other. (One of my personal fav cutest moments is when all the members of SMAP appeared on Iitomo, except Goro, and Nakai's all like "we shouldn't leave Goro out so I'm going to mention his name". XD And Goro getting all worked up because he overheard some fangirls talking about SMAP and they were disrespectful towards Nakai. XD XD XD)
I've always loved your Shingo. *huggles* (That is an awesome fic prompt! XD XD XD *puppy dog eyes* Consider writing? *grins*) His admittance is so cute and there was once he was all "If you think Takuya's cool, try working with him at close quarters for over a decade. He is just that cool." *fangirl mush*
I think that all the members look up to Takuya in one way or another. It is rather obvious with Goro (TakuGoro how I love you~ ♥). Tsuyoshi can be obvious on occasions (I just went aw~~~ when he and Shingo were talking about "Fine, Peace!", the song that they sang with Takuya, and Tsuyoshi was just so happy that Takuya mentioned it as his favourite song of the day). And, though no conrete incidences come to mind at the moment XD, Nakai used to be very expressively fanboy when it came to Takuya (2TOP! 2TOP! <333) I guess it is all mutual though cause Takuya has also expressed on many occasions that he adores, respects and admires his fellow members as well. (Member Rabu! XD XD XD)I'm so in love with the fact that he thinks of Shingo as a "genius" <333 Because Shingo so is a genius and creative and absolutely fun! XD
Somehow, I hope this doesn't sound weird, but a part of me loves the fact that the fic sorta wrote itself. *has the same runaway fic syndrom when she writes* XD
And really, it is my pleasure~ ♥♥♥ Thank you too for all your amazing effort in sharing this little baby! :D
no subject
"Affection tinkles at the edges" is so right - you always seem to find the words I always have trouble searching for! Anything to do with Shingo literally tinkles! That boy's just so cute huh.
I can just imagine Nakai-kun blabbering on and on and on... and on about the place endlessly :P
I think Shingo's plenty like Nakai (we can go into that discussion another time) but they're just that slight bit different. Where Nakai would just point this out, Shingo'd be more sensitive and let it go - which makes Nakai somewhat annoying (but entirely lovable anyway) and Shingo simply just a adorable dear. -sighs-
I'm not sure if you meant it that way, but I feel like Shingo's just mock-horrified. Y'know, to keep things light, and Kimura's mind off whatever he's dwelling upon cos' he's just that way.
I AM I AM! HALLO I'M FIRST IN LINE!
Shingo does seem the kind to get overexcited and ignore what's around him huh? I can just imagine Kimura tugging at his jacket sleeve, a tad reluctant to seem too close and all.
Because as good as Kimura is at hiding his feelings, SMAP understands him best <3