Confession by kireira

April 23rd, 2008 | by blueverry |

Confession

Pairing: Tomapi and hints on T&T.

Rating: PG

—

Confessions were very hard to plan, Yamapi realized.

He hadn’t even settled on the line to say — a line that wouldn’t sound like it was out of one of his dramas (that’d give Toma something to tease him for the rest of their lives), a line that would leave no doubt as to his non-platonic intention (oh the trap of friendship and/or brotherly love!) and wouldn’t possibly be taken as a practical joke (he cursed the overuse of random kisses and by-request aishiteru-s in those Shounen Club episodes).

Timing was the real headache. He couldn’t be putting forth that (yet undecided) line when he hardly had energy to smile after a packed day, looking like a ragged mess, though it was probably quite cool to wear that Kurosagi coat to the occasion– no, scrap that, wasn’t he trying to avoid any drama references? On the other hand, he also wanted to make sure Toma was in a favorable condition to hear him out, and it was an even harder task to pry into Toma’s schedule (feigned casual questions, suddenly chatting people up, eavesdropping at phone calls) without arousing too much suspicion.

A perfect timing would be the eve of a mutual off day, a relaxed night that at the same time provided a buffer for repercussion, just in case (1) it sent Toma into a shock (that guy could be unbelievably dense at times), or (2) he got rejected (wallow wallow), or (3) they got too excited (cough). But he’d be better off waiting for the next solar eclipse than such a day to come by (okay, he exaggerated, but at least planetary motions *were* predictable) if only because each delayed day equaled one more day of restless anticipation.

And so it wasn’t the perfect time when he finally asked Toma out to dinner on a last-minute decision, having excused himself early from the surprise birthday party thrown for one of his co-stars, knowing that Toma happened to work only half of that day.

Threw on his casual clothes — those that he wore to the set — refreshed himself slightly above the presentable standard (puppy-dog eyes were easier to pull without black circles), panicked a little over the fact that he hadn’t decided on what to say, then off he went.

It took some skills goading Toma to his preferred eating place without having to explain why they were taking the secluded corner area, but he found that the excuse “It’s been a tiring day” worked wonderfully for most necessities.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Toma asked, mindfully not digging into the food first.

“No, let’s talk about something else,” Yamapi replied, knowing that that would launch Toma into cheerful fast-paced expositions, while he stalled time to organize his thoughts.

Then, just as the best laid plans would fall apart, his non-plan unexpectedly played itself out when the opening came out of the blue, from Toma himself.

“I talked to Maki-chan the other day,” Toma said in-between his munching.

“Really?” Yamapi leaned forward. “What did you talk about?”

“She called to ask if I could guest again on her talk show for the New Year. I said I’d be happy to do that, but with the movie coming up, I thought you’d be more suitable.”

Yamapi relished awhile in the happiness that Toma had thought of him in that situation. “There’ll also be a rerun of your drama, won’t there? I will be guesting too, but probably nearer to the release date. That’s the plan, anyway.”

“Ah yes, that’s what she told me too. But now that I think of it, wouldn’t it be great to guest together?” Toma laughed. “Then the theme can be ‘Love Triangle’.”

Yamapi straightened.

Toma misinterpreted his expression. “I mean in the drama, in the drama. My character liked hers, and her character liked yours, isn’t it.”

“Oh. For a second there I thought…”

“Eh, what, what?” Toma poked laughingly. “Do you like Maki-chan for real?”

“Not that! I thought you meant that she, too, liked you.”

“Me? Nah, we’re just friends,” Toma waved. Then, “Huh? …’She, too’?”

Yamapi looked at him closely. “She, too,” he repeated with a smile, then pointed to himself, “I, too.”

“Ha?” Toma’s jaws dropped. “Wait, you–”

“I had the biggest crush on you all through high school,” Yamapi continued, laughing. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Uh…” Toma put a hand at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I did notice,” he said. “Though I thought it must be a passing phase.”

“Really. How did you figure I would get over it? We saw each other practically everyday.”

“*Because* of that, shouldn’t the novelty wear off sooner or later?”

Yamapi considered this. “Well, I was looking at Takizawa-kun and Tsubasa-kun all through those years, and thinking that they were doing fine, so why couldn’t we?”

“Eh~~ I’ve been watching them too, but I was thinking that they must have gone through that same phase, but they still continue to be good friends, right?”

Yamapi looked at him with amusement. “Really, Toma, you are so naive.”

Toma sputtered. “Why– what do you mean? They… can’t be…”

“Oh, I don’t know, I certainly didn’t ask. But they do look that way sometimes, no?”

Toma blushed. “Eeeh, that is, anoo… –no, no, we shouldn’t be gossiping about them.”

“Right,” Yamapi said. “Back to us.”

“…Uh?”

“Yeah. What’s your answer?”

Toma scratched his head uncomfortably. “I thought… about the crush, weren’t you… speaking in past tense?”

“Ah, that’s right,” Yamapi recalled. “I had a serious crush back then…” He smiled and leaned forward, his fingers finding Toma’s and brushing across them lightly. “Now, it’s definitely more than that.”

Toma choked, even though he wasn’t even eating anything.

“Ah, I…” he fumbled, his fingers undecided between pulling back or staying there.

Yamapi watched the troubled expression, the eyes that darted anywhere but at him, the hesitance like ice water pouring down on him.

His smile faded as he withdrew his hand slowly. “You know… you don’t have to be afraid of turning me down.”

Toma looked up. “Huh?”

“I’ll pull myself together, I’ll still meet up with you as a friend. So…”

“No, I–”

“Don’t hide it,” Yamapi cut him off, upset. “You wouldn’t be this agonized if you could honestly accept it.”

Toma’s lips thinned into a line.

“It’s not like that,” he said heavily. “I’m this troubled exactly because I don’t want to say no.”

Yamapi stared, the sinking feeling in him suddenly thrown high up to the sky; but rather than enjoying the view, he was dreading the fall.

He coughed to release the knot in his throat, but his voice still cracked a little when he spoke. “What is stopping you, then?”

Toma exhaled audibly. “Aren’t you trying to ignore what you already know? With our positions, there’s no way we can be involved like that.”

“Nobody has to know,” Yamapi defended.

“Where there’s a fire, there will be smoke,” Toma returned.

“I would think I’ve been obvious enough all this time, that they won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Fan service is just that, fan service. But–”

“They are *not* fan service,” Yamapi interrupted. “Not the ones concerning you.”

“If we are actually dating,” Toma said patiently, “I won’t be able to do those anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” Yamapi said, feeling more and more like a mess. “I’ve had to be careful of how I say them, but every visible account of my feelings that’s ever publicized has been the fact.”

“So are mine. But simply conveying what you feel is very different from talking about the very same thing that you know you have to hide.”

Yamapi sighed. “Then I’ll simply not talk about it.”

“That’ll be fine with the fans you never meet, but it’s all the more suspicious to people who know us in real life.”

“People who know us in real life wouldn’t mind.”

Toma fell silent.

Yamapi reached for his hand. “If necessary, I will go to every one of them and ask them to keep the secret.”

Toma pulled away gently. “Just a little… could you give me time to think about it?”

The slip of that hand scratched at something else inside Yamapi’s chest, and his answer was clipped, “No.”

Toma looked up, surprised.

“Knowing you, you’ll lose sleep over your worries and then come back to turn me down tomorrow,” Yamapi said. “I want you to clarify all your thoughts while you’re here with me. Voice out all your fears so I can dispel them. Look me in the eyes so you won’t run away.”

Toma stared at him, speechless.

“You are always this straightforward,” Yamapi’s voice started to shake with despair. “I knew this would be difficult for you. I thought it would be fine continuing like we are now… but our worlds are getting more and more different.”

His rejected hand moved a little closer to Toma’s, craving the touch, but stopped short before they came into contact.

“I wished I knew what I could do to rebuild the kind of closeness we had back then. When there were all those commissions to host together, that promise to debut together — a pact that kept you bound to me and me to you.”

Toma’s eyes softened, and Yamapi willed the unpleasant memories away, telling himself to focus on the present.

“This might be selfish of me… but I need that kind of assurance. More than mere occasional meetings like this, I want–”

He hadn’t expected the touch of their fingertips that came next, and it startled him like an electric shock. It lasted for only a second, though, as the next moment both Toma’s hands clasped his tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Toma whispered, and Yamapi felt blood draining from his face. He wondered if he’d be able to keep from crying, but then one of those hands went to his dangerously-close-to-be-drenched cheek, and his mind protested, what are you doing touching me like this when you are rejecting me?

But Toma had more to say.

“I’m sorry I was such a coward,” he said, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears that at least made Yamapi feel a lot better about the possibility of himself crying. “I’m sorry I acted like I cared about those consequences more than I cared about you.”

The touch spoke volumes more, and despite everything, Yamapi felt an insane urge to laugh out loud, red eyes and wet nose and all. “You… were you speaking in… past tense?”

A chuckle escaped Toma’s throat, though he sniffled right after. “Yeah… I guess I… don’t care about those anymore.”

Yamapi’s mind was a blur of incoherent thoughts except for the image of that face in front of him, and he couldn’t think of a proper response. “Really… then… what do you want now?”

“Right, how should I say that, now… ah, ‘Please go out with me’?”

Yamapi did laugh, then, red eyes and wet nose and all. “Stupid. I already asked you that.”

“…Well, excuse me, but I never get that kind of scenario before,” Toma managed in between uncontrollable half-sniffle and half-laughter.

“You’d better not,” Yamapi gripped the hand that was resting on his cheek with his own shaky one, high on happiness and noting with satisfaction that Toma wasn’t faring any better.

“…This feels kind of strange,” Toma remarked, only then realizing the positively intimate tangle of their hands.

“There’s got to be something different, of course,” Yamapi said, not letting go. “I’d be disappointed if after this all I get is still only the public-friendly arm-across-my-shoulders thing.”

Toma sputtered. “Didn’t we say to keep it a secret?”

Yamapi looked around. “I don’t see anybody else around here.”

“Still, this is a public place!”

“Why,” Yamapi laughed, “What are you thinking I’m going to do to you?”

Toma pulled his hands away indignantly. “I thought we were in this together,” he complained.

“Oh, we *so* are,” Yamapi reached across the table, and Toma scampered to the furthest corner of his seat.

“To think I worried so much about the trouble you’ll get into if your fans find out you’re dating…” he scowled, “and here you are giving *me* all this trouble.”

Yamapi grinned. “Why would you call it trouble when it’s this enjoyable?”

—