Julie (carmine_pink) wrote,
Julie
carmine_pink

[one-shot] Come to Me

Title: Come to Me
Type: One-shot
Word count: 4,932
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Koyama/Shige
Summary: Despite their breakup, Koyama comes to help Shige during an emergency.
Warning: AAA (Angst All Around)
 
 
“I think we should break up.”
 
Even as the words came out of Shige’s mouth he wished he hadn’t said it. Koyama, sitting in front of him in the cafe, was frozen in his tracks, looking up from his glass of iced tea with a incredulous expression in his face. “Wha... what?” he stammered.
 
Shige hated having to repeat it, but he swallowed hard and forced himself to finish what he started. “We can’t go on like this, Koyama. Sneaking around behind people’s back, lying to everyone we care about — it’s too tiring. We’re still going to see each other at work, but I don’t think it should go any further than that.”
 
Koyama opened his mouth to speak but produced no sound. He lifted his hand to his forehead as if struck by a sudden migraine, and Shige noticed the hand was shaking. “Why are you suddenly saying this?” his tone was questioning, pleading.
 
“It’s not like we haven’t discussed this before, right? The circumstances make it impossible for us to be together.” Shige had thought about it over and over again and there seemed to be no better way out. They both loved their career, and they couldn’t afford to let it shatter once the secret of their relationship came out to the open. There was a price to pay for being idols, after all.
 
Koyama shook his head vehemently, his hand shifting to reach for Shige’s on the table. “But I love you,” he said weakly, the hurt in his eyes so evident Shige avoided looking directly into them. “And I know you love me too.”
 
“I do. That’s exactly why I’m doing this.” Slowly Shige pulled his hand from under Koyama’s palm. “There’s no future for us, Koyama. And the longer we stay together the more painful it will become.”
 
The sight of a tear threatening to drop from Koyama’s eye nearly drove Shige to the edge. Clenching his fingers in an effort to contain himself, he pushed his chair back and stood up briskly. “I’m sorry, Koyama,” he mumbled before turning and rapidly making his way out of the cafe, willing himself not to look back because he knew what he would see: the remaining pieces of a heart he had just broken with his own two hands. 


 
It felt like just yesterday that they became more than just best friends. They were sitting in Koyama’s living room, laughing at some stupid joke that wasn’t actually all that funny but seemed hilarious in their uplifted mood. Shige threw out a hilarious comeback which caused Koyama to double over and whoop even louder. When the laugh subsided Koyama heaved a long sigh and said, “Oh man, I love you.”
 
They both became quiet as the three magic words, able to be interpreted in a number of ways, hung heavily in the air between them. Then Shige turned to Koyama and said hesitatingly, “What you just said... did you mean—”
 
“I meant every word of it.” Despite what his mouth was saying, for the record Koyama sounded just as surprised as Shige was.
 
Their gaze locked together and then Koyama, suddenly seized with daring, leaned over and kissed the younger man. The moment their lips joined Shige felt a flame kindling inside him, burning from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. Koyama’s tongue searched inside his mouth, eliciting a moan when he bit Shige’s upper lip softly. Shige threaded his fingers in Koyama’s hair as he angled deeper into the latter’s mouth. It was a long, passionate kiss that was the beginning of everything.
 
Shige could still remember, too, the first time the two of them advanced further than mere hugs and kisses. Following several glasses of wine after dinner they somehow wound up on Shige’s bed, Koyama straddling him. The older man started with small, feathery kisses that trailed from Shige’s lips and downward to his throat. Shige kept his eyes closed, trembling slightly as he felt Koyama’s fingers travel under his shirt and graze against his nipples, the pressure of Koyama’s teeth on his neck immediately tempered by tender brushes of the tongue.
 
But when Koyama’s hand slid under his pants and closed over his most private part his eyes flew open, his whole body stiffening at the unexpected intrusion. Sensing Shige’s apprehension, Koyama went still and lifted his head back to Shige’s face.
 
“Koyama,” Shige said amidst hitched breath, “I...”
 
“Hey,” murmured Koyama, cupping Shige’s cheek with his free hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
 
And he did, oh so well.
 

 
Being a couple hadn’t been easy, and they tried as hard as they could to make it work. But when you’re in a relationship where you can’t kiss or even hold hands in public, and have to lie constantly about how you feel about each other, there’s only so much you can do. Shige brought up the topic a few times because he’s the kind of guy who thinks about these things and every other thing under the sun, and each time the discussion ended in a non-ending. One time they were lying side by side on Koyama’s bed talking about their future dreams. Koyama had been saying, “Someday I want us to hold concerts in Korea.”
 
“Why stop at Korea?” Shige was in a rare fanciful mood. “We did Taiwan already. Next time we go China, and then the rest of Asia.”
 
Koyama chuckled. “I’ve never known you to be so optimistic.” He turned over to his side to snuggle against Shige’s neck, mumbling drowsily, “In the years to come I hope we’d still be together.”
 
Minutes lapsed in silence as Shige stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, his prior confidence gradually evaporating. “Where would we be then...?” he asked, knowing neither of them had an answer to that question. Where could they take this relationship in five, ten, fifteen years? They both said no more that night but the issue stayed present all the time just under the surface, mocking them with its immovability.
 
It took a long time for Shige to gather enough courage and willpower to finally tell Koyama that day that they should separate. It was all for the best, he kept saying to himself as he drove home, repeatedly having to pull over to get a hold of himself and control his quivering hands on the steering wheel.
 
When Shige finally got home he went straight to bed and cried himself to sleep, not so much for his loss but more for the wounds he deliberately inflicted on the person he loved the most. He was crying because he knew somewhere across the city Koyama was also crying.
 
“But I love you,” Koyama had said, the raw pain in his voice and expression causing Shige to clasp the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

He had never loathed himself more in his entire life.
 
 
 
“...so when the attendant continued to search the bag I was like, Er, you probably don’t want to do that, but the guy just kept going while Massu looked like he was ready to explode! And I was like, Dude, don’t make him angry. You wouldn’t like Massu when he’s angry — oi, Kei-chan, are you listening...?”

Shige paused at the doorway of the recording studio, aware of Koyama’s eyes that were fixed on him the second he appeared. Tegoshi, upset because Koyama wasn’t paying attention to his story, followed the taller man’s gaze over his shoulder. His face immediately changed when he saw it was Shige’s entrance that distracted Koyama.

The members had an unspoken agreement to not meddle in each other’s private affairs, plus Shige and Koyama had never exactly announced that they were dating. But somehow they all seemed to know anyway, judging from the way Ryo smirked or Tegoshi nodded with a conspiratorial smile whenever they said they were going out together after work. Not a question was asked if, when the company van picked up Koyama at his house in the morning before a concert, Shige was also there after apparently having stayed the night. The members thought Koyashige being together was so natural and inevitable that it threw them off a bit when the pair seemed to have split up. It didn’t help that the ex-lovers themselves were still rather awkward with each other.

Shige decided to pretend he didn’t notice Koyama and Tegoshi’s stares and made a beeline for the corner where Yamapi was fiddling with his new gaming device. He took off his scarf and jacket and whiled away the few minutes they had to wait by watching Yamapi and pretending to be interested in the game, trying to ignore the fact that he could still feel Koyama’s eyes on his back. It had been little more than a week since the breakup, and they had just gone through the painful process of returning each other’s things and mementos they still kept. Seeing his apartment without the usual assortment of Koyama’s stuff lying around had caused Shige to feel a pang of gloom this morning, and the sight of Koyama’s pale, worn face told him he probably felt the same.
 
Luckily it didn’t take long for Ryo and Massu to arrive, so they started the recording process for the main song of their new single. The song, titled “Sakura Girl”, struck a bit too close to home for Shige as it was about a breakup. Koyama seemed to be affected as well, as he stumbled slightly with his part during the first recording session. But they were both professionals and weren’t going to let personal matters interfere with work. The recording went on for a few hours before the music director decided to call it a day and they all shuffled to the exit.
 
“Hey, Shige, want to go eat with me and Tegoshi after this?” Massu asked as he and Shige walked side by side to the elevator.
 
“Oh. Umm, I’m not sure...”

“Koyama’s not coming, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Massu’s words were gentle but it still stunned Shige a little.
 
“No, no. It’s not that,” he shook his head, fingers running through his hair. “I’m just not in the mood, that’s all. But hey, thanks for asking me. Maybe next time.” As Shige’s hand fell to his bare neck he realized something. “Shoot, I left my scarf at the studio. You go on ahead.”

“Okay. See you later.” Massu gave a little wave before he followed the other members to the elevator, while Shige turned on his heel and made his way back to the studio. The lights had already been turned off as all the crew had left as well. Shige was pushing the glass door open when he heard a suspicious sound. He went still as he tried to locate the source of the noise. It was hard to see in the darkness but after his eyes got used to it he noticed a hunched form sitting on the sofa. A few seconds of observation made it clear to him that it was Koyama, and he was sobbing.

The revelation confirmed what he had assumed — that Koyama was as miserable as he was. But Shige instantly chided himself for being so pretentious. How could he be so sure Koyama was crying for him? He could be feeling sad for any number of things. It could be a problem at work, or with his family, or maybe something happened to Nyanta. All the possibilities made Shige feel even more awful for not being by his side in times of trouble. Then things became crystal clear as Shige recognized what Koyama was holding in his lap.

It was Shige’s scarf that he left earlier.

Koyama was sobbing even harder now, breathing in convulsive pants that caused his shoulders to shake. With the help of the dim light from outside Shige could make out the glimmer of tears on his cheeks. When he brought the scarf to his chest and his face contorted in agony, Shige felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He quickly backed away and ran to the elevator as fast as his feet would allow. His eyes had become hot as the elevator glided downward, and before the doors were fully open he already shoved himself outside and flew to the parking lot, his vision blurring. Only in the privacy of his car did he release the moan he had been holding back and let his own tears rain down.

 
 
“Hey, Shige!” a tap on the shoulder, and Shige turned to see Yamapi grinning at him. He was walking down the hallway at the jimusho office that afternoon after finishing some errands. Yamapi, meanwhile, looked like he just went on an appointment and was ready to run off to the next one — a state he perpetually seemed to be in. “Are you going already? Wanna walk out together?”

Shige agreed, saying he only needed to go the toilet for a moment. As he entered the men’s room, he felt a weird spasm in his belly again. A brief spell of nausea went through him but passed as swiftly as it came. When he walked out to meet Yamapi he saw the older man eyeing him suspiciously. “You okay? You’re white as a sheet.”

Shige shrugged. “I don’t know, I must’ve eaten something funny. I went to lunch at a new restaurant today, but I didn’t notice anything until just now.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Yamapi cocked his head. “For all you know, it could be food poisoning or something.”

Shige waved his hand lightly and walked on by his group leader’s side. “Nah, it’s probably nothing. I’m feeling better already.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps you should call somebody, your mother, or maybe Ko—” Yamapi stopped himself in time, but a discomfited silence followed as they both made it to the parking lot.
 
Shige took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m okay, Yamashita-kun, really. Are you going to the drama shoot?”

“No, I’m doing promotions at a radio after this. What about you?”

“I’ve got nothing else today so I’m gonna head back home.”

“Good. Just take some rest,” said Yamapi, patting Shige’s arm cordially.

“Okay,” Shige smiled, always enjoying the way Yamapi treated him like a little brother. “I’ll see you later, all right?”

“All right,” Yamapi nodded, still unconvinced but not wanting to make too much of a fuss. He watched as Shige’s back disappeared behind a row of cars before taking out his cell phone from his pocket and typing a message.



A few hours later Shige was forced to admit Yamapi had probably been right. He had vomited several times since he arrived home, and the cramps in his abdomen just got worse.  He was tempted to call somebody, but his parents were out of town on vacation, and the other person he used to call... well, he wasn’t sure if it was okay to call him anymore. But as he threw up for the umpteenth time he felt something had to be done. Doctor, he thought vaguely as he wiped his mouth. I need to go see a doctor. But then his knees gave way under him and he sank to the bathroom tiles.



Koyama didn’t actually want to go at first. Shige was the one who had broken up with him and he was still smarting from the pain even now, weeks after it happened. But Yamapi’s message sounded serious. He mentioned that Shige didn’t look all right but didn’t want to seek any help. So typical of him, Koyama thought wryly. When things like this happens, who else will take care of him but Koyama?

After a while Koyama realized the notion was a disturbing one. Who else would take care of Shige? What if something happened to him and nobody found out? Koyama spent a few tense moments hesitating before grabbing his jacket and going straight to Shige’s apartment.

It felt weird coming to his place again after all this time. Koyama did the proper thing first and rang the doorbell, but after it went unanswered for ten full minutes he started knocking — no, banging on the door and calling Shige’s name. When that also didn’t work he fished out the one spare key he purposely forgot to return to Shige after the split — because if he let it go then it was really, really over — and unlocked the door.

The apartment was nerve-wrackingly silent. “Shige? Are you home?” Koyama’s call echoed through the vacant rooms. The living room and kitchen was empty, so was the bedroom. Koyama checked the dark room where Shige developed pictures but it too was deserted. Just when he was starting to get scared he noticed the bathroom door was ajar. Slowly pushing it to open further, he peered inside and called tentatively, “Shige...?”

He gasped in shock to find Shige slumped on the floor in a sitting position, his head resting against the side of the bathtub. Koyama touched him and was glad beyond belief to feel signs of life. His face, though deathly pale, was still warm, and his pulse was steady. “Shige, hey,” Koyama patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than he intended. “Shige, come on. Wake up.”

Slowly Shige opened his eyes, revealing confusion in them before it changed to recognition and then surprise. “Ko... yama...?” he managed feebly.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here to help you, okay? Come on, let’s get up.”

Koyama hauled the younger man up and supported his weight as he struggled to maintain balance. They barely made it to the door when Shige covered his mouth and spun away from Koyama’s grasp. He tumbled over to the toilet bowl and heaved the remaining contents of his stomach. Koyama began rubbing his back but Shige, after taking a deep breath to control the throes of nausea, said quietly, “Stop.”

Koyama quickly pulled his hand away. “Sorry. Does it make you feel worse?”

“No, I mean stop being so nice to me.” His voice became lower, huskier. “I don’t deserve it.”

For a few minutes the only sound that could be heard in the room was Shige’s ragged breathing. Then with unexpectedly strong hands Koyama picked him up again, as if he hadn’t said anything. Shige wanted to protest but, barely having the energy to support himself, he finally let Koyama help him to the bedroom. As Koyama laid him down on the bed he asked, “How did you know...?”

“Yamapi told me you weren’t feeling all right,” said Koyama, sitting on the edge of the bed.  “What happened?”

Shige let out a long breath. “I think I have food poisoning. It’s probably from that stupid French restaurant, I knew I shouldn’t have...” His words were cut short as he winced, a hand moving up to his abdomen.

“What, Shige? What is it?” Koyama asked worriedly, putting his hand on top of Shige’s.

“Stomach cramps,” answered Shige between gritted teeth. “It’ll go away soon, I’m sure.”

“No, Shige, we have to go to a doctor. Come on, my car’s outside.”

He pushed Koyama’s hand away. “No.”

“Shige, don’t be stubborn,” Koyama looked exasperated. “You need help!”

“You don’t have to do this, Koyama. I’m not—” The throbbing in his belly shot up suddenly and before he could stop himself Shige was crying out in pain.

“Okay, that’s it.” Koyama pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. Shige couldn’t make out what he was saying because he soon had to bend over in a futile effort to stop his stomach from churning. After Koyama got off the phone he went back to Shige, leaning over him and stroking his hair. “Help is coming soon. You’ll be all right, baby.”

It had been such a long time since he heard Koyama call him that. It felt so good that for a moment Shige thought his heart was aching instead of his stomach.



Shige lost track of time. How long had he been lying there, an hour? Two hours? All he was aware of was the searing pain in his middle section and the urge to vomit, which he fought constantly because there was not a scrap of food left in his stomach anyway. But Koyama had stayed with him, comforting him with words and caresses. Even when he closed his eyes from exhaustion he could still feel Koyama’s hands soothing him. That was why he was startled when a different pair of hands touched him. He opened his eyes and saw an older woman dressed in white hovering above him, touching him in a number of places and examining him using something he forgot the name of — stethoscope, that’s it.

“Does he have diarrhea?” the woman’s question seemed to be directed not at himself but at Koyama.

“I don’t think so, only vomiting and stomach cramps. Will he be okay, Nakahara-san?” asked Koyama anxiously.

“I think so. He doesn’t have a fever or diarrhea, so that’s a good sign. All you need to do is rehydrate him with fluids. Once the nausea stops, you can start giving him solid food. When the symptoms are mild the illness usually runs its course within a day or two.”

The woman stood up and walked outside with Koyama where they talked some more. Then Shige heard the front door close and shortly after Koyama returned to the bedroom carrying a glass of water.

“That was Nakahara-san, my mother’s friend who’s a doctor. I thought of calling her and luckily she could come over. She said it’s nothing serious, but you have to drink a lot of water to replace the fluids you lost from vomiting.” He helped Shige sit up and brought the glass to his mouth. “Come on, drink this. Little sips are fine as long as it’s frequent.”

Shige put his lips to the rim of the glass and took a sip before lying down again. Putting the glass on the nightstand, Koyama said, “If the nausea becomes worse, Nakahara-san gave me some anti-vomiting pills for you to take. But you still have to drink as much as you can every few minutes. If you start to feel something weird, like a fever, or dizziness, or you feel your heart is racing, tell me straight away, okay?”

“So I’m gonna be all right?”

“Yes Shige, you’re gonna be fine,” Koyama smiled. “I’m here for you, aren’t I?”

“You shouldn’t.” Shige looked away. “I appreciate you coming, Koyama, but you don’t have to stay with me. You should go.”

“I can’t.” Koyama exhaled slowly, and then continued, “I promised I’d take care of you.”

At first Shige didn’t understand what he was saying but then it came back to him. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

The two of them were aware of what each other was thinking — that it was on this very bed Koyama had said those words, on the night they slept together for the first time. An uneasy silence ensued before Koyama stood up clumsily and fetched the glass. “Gotta get some more water,” he muttered and went out of the room.

Shige closed his eyes again, fighting the impulse to let Koyama stay because truthfully that’s what he really wanted right now. But he couldn’t bear to accept Koyama’s kindness, not after everything he did to him. When a fresh bout of abdominal cramps attacked him Shige surrendered himself to it, thinking it was the punishment he had to endure.



Koyama kept to his word and stayed through the night on a chair next to the bed, helping Shige gulp down water every half an hour. Shige tried to reason with him but it was difficult to hold an argument when his body was still weak and his mind couldn’t concentrate due to the spasms in his stomach. The pain reduced steadily though, and when the clock struck past midnight he felt with relief that his cramps were almost entirely gone.

“The cramps have stopped,” he reported to Koyama, whose head was starting to loll on his shoulders. He sat up and wiped his eyes, stifling a yawn as he did so. “That’s good. Are you still feeling nauseous?”

“Just a little.”

“Okay. I think it’s time for you to eat something. Nakahara-san mentioned rice or bread, so do you have—”

“Koyama,” Shige cut in, looking at him with a steady gaze. “Thank you, I can manage from here. You can go home.”

“No, I just want to make sure...”

“I’m feeling better already. I can feed myself. Besides, you have a Shounen Club shoot in the afternoon, right?”

The way Koyama stared at him made Shige realize he had said the wrong thing, unintentionally revealing that he still knew Koyama’s schedule by heart. Not wanting to open that can of worms, Shige went on, “Just go home, okay? I’ll be fine.”

Koyama shook his head resolutely. He had that grave, determined look in his face, something he doesn’t show very often but when he does Shige knows it’s serious. “No.” He sat up straighter in the chair, fists clamped on his knees. “I’ve made a decision. I’m not leaving you, Shige, and I’m not gonna let you leave me again either.”

He was talking about more than the current situation; he was talking about their relationship in general. Shige felt something throbbing painfully inside him, higher up in his chest instead of in his belly. He inhaled deeply to steel himself before saying again, “Koyama, please.”

“No,” the other man replied defiantly.

“I said go away!”

He hadn’t meant to shout so sharply. But although Koyama flinched a bit at those words he didn’t move from the chair. “I’m not going anywhere, Shige. It hurts too much to be apart, and I can’t take it anymore.”

Shige felt hot tears pricking the corners of his eyes, and he covered them with the back of his hand. “I don’t want this either,” he said with a faltering voice. “I hate this. I hate that I have to be cruel to you, when all I wish is for you to be happy.”

“...happy?” Koyama repeated softly.

Shige nodded, still covering his eyes. “I want you to be happy, Koyama. You can’t be happy if you stay with me.”

The next thing Koyama said threw Shige off balance. “What makes you think I can be happy without you?”

The uneven voice betrayed how Koyama had also lost his composure. Shige removed his hand from his eyes, and when he saw the tears cascading down Koyama’s face he threw all caution to the winds and flung his arms about Koyama’s neck, spilling out a million apologies in his ear. Still too faint to sit up for long, he ended up pulling Koyama down so the latter was half lying on top of him on the bed. He had missed it so much; the feeling of Koyama’s muscular arms through his shirt, the rich scent of his body mixing with a hint of perfume. Shige wondered how he could have survived without him for so long.

“I’m so sorry, Koyama,” he sobbed. “I’ve been horrible to you, I... God, I’ve been awful.”

Koyama buried his face in Shige’s neck, his tears quickly drenching the younger man’s shirt. “Don’t push me away again, Shige. I don’t think I can stand it.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Shige sought Koyama’s lips and felt the salty taste of his tears — or maybe they were his own, he couldn’t tell. It was as if the two of them had fused into one being, with one body, one mind, one heart. When Koyama whispered “I love you” against his lips, he repeated it back to him and let the words reverberate in his soul so he would never forget it. They loved each other, and it was all that mattered.



Shige woke up in the morning to the sight of Koyama sleeping soundly by his side, holding Shige’s hand to his cheek. Koyama still remembered to make Shige drink his water and eat a little solid food, but they mostly the spent the remainder of the night crying in each other’s arms. Koyama’s lashes were still wet, and Shige could feel the dampness on his cheek. When he moved his fingers to wipe away the tear stain, Koyama was roused by the motion and opened his eyes. “Good morning,” he smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” replied Shige, then adding, “I have a great nurse.”

Koyama chuckled. “If you can joke already you must be feeling well.”

“Koyama,” Shige proceeded wiping the tears from the other man’s cheeks. “I really never meant to hurt you that much. I thought I was doing what’s best for us.”

Koyama sighed and took Shige’s hand, kissing it warmly. “I know it’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be difficult and painful and still nothing might come out of it.” He looked into Shige’s eyes, the earnestness in his face almost overwhelming. “But I’d rather be together and struggle, than not be together at all.”

Sidling closer to Koyama, Shige nestled his head against the former’s chest — another thing he had missed so badly. “You’re much braver than I am,” he said. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Koyama put his arms around Shige and squeezed tenderly. “You just got lucky.”

Shige thought about it and couldn’t help but to agree. There probably wasn’t a luckier man in the world.
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