26 JE Birthday Kisses, A Faulty String of Blue Christmas Lights

Title: Kiss Seventeen: A Faulty String of Blue Christmas Lights [Miyata/Tamamori]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for temper tantrums and making up.
Summary: Miyata thinks maybe his timing could have been better, Tamamori thinks Miyata is a giant jerk.
AN: For 26 Birthday Kisses, Kiss Seventeen: Kiss Under the Mistletoe.

First Kiss | Good Luck Kiss | Drunk Kiss | Kiss and Make It Better | On-Screen Kiss | Morning After Kiss | True Love’s Kiss | Goodbye Kiss | Good Morning Kiss | Surprise Kiss | Meltykiss | Goodnight Kiss | French Kiss | Congratulations Kiss | Sealed With a Kiss | Hello Kiss | Kiss Under the Mistletoe | I Forgive You Kiss | Birthday Kiss | Blown Kiss | Kiss on the Forehead | Kiss on the Hand | Kiss on the Cheek | I’m Sorry Kiss | New Year’s Kiss | Welcome Home Kiss

Kiss Seventeen: A Faulty String of Blue Christmas Lights

Christmas in the Jimusho is full of bustle and garish decorations as usual. Tiny juniors roam the halls in packs, hollering Christmas carols at the top of their lungs and sounding like they learned all their English from Akanishi-kun. Older units are more furtive, knowing that the slowest ones will get cornered into singing “Another Christmas” with whatever senpai is deemed this year’s lost cause.

It also involves a lot of presents and foods and festivity, and in retrospect Miyata thinks he could probably have picked a better time of year to break up with Tamamori.

It isn’t that he doesn’t like Tamamori anymore, Miyata broods to himself as he roams the Shokura backstage, an exile from his own dressing room, dodging a pair of juniors dressed up like a reindeer and a Christmas tree, respectively.

He still feels…whatever it is that he feels about Tamamori, he still feels it. He’s just been feeling restless lately, unsettled, quick to argue and slow to apologize. He knows he’s being a jerk, and is even pretty sure that Tamamori knows he doesn’t mean it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it makes him feel like dirt every time hurt flashes over Tamamori’s features, and it makes him feel lower than dirt when Tamamori smoothes the hurt back off his face with such practiced ease.

Their job is stressful enough, Miyata reasons, they don’t need to add romantic kerfluffle to it. He’s doing Tamamori a favor, really, doing both of them a favor. God knows they could use the time to rest rather than jamming dates into their schedule that they just end up fighting during anyway.

He slows to a stop in front of a fake doorway that is garlanded to within an inch of its life, and idly watches the strand of faulty Christmas lights blink red, yellow, green, and then a pause where the blue string has burned out.

That’s what Miyata feels like. He only wanted a break, a pause, but he feels burned out too, and instead of being happy with everything that’s okay and then the space to relax, all he can see is what’s missing.

“Sap,” he grumbles at himself, then turns to go back the way he came and nearly knocks Tamamori to the ground as Tamamori is coming around the corner.

“Oh,” Tamamori says dully when he sees who it is, then his eyes flick up and he repeats, “Oh,” even more wretchedly.

Miyata glances up to see that the false doorway is also hung with a huge blob of mistletoe.

“Of course,” he sighs.

“Feel free to ignore it if it’s such a chore!” Tamamori snaps and turns to stomp off, but Miyata grabs his elbow and leans in to kiss his cheek. He isn’t expecting Tamamori to whirl around and shove him backwards, so that he’s thrown up against the doorway with a creak of plywood.

“Yuta…” he starts, but that just seems to make Tamamori even angrier.

“It’s ‘Yuta’ now, huh?” he exclaims, eyes flashing, and Miyata’s chest clenches with…something. “Because last week it was ‘Tamamori-kun, I think we need a break!’ Why so familiar today, Toshiya?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Miyata protests, staring at the lights over Tamamori’s shoulder as they go blink-blink-blink-pause, because watching Tamamori’s face is making it hard to breathe.

“What was it like?” Tamamori asks, voice dangerous and quiet.

Miyata sighs and scrunches his shoulders up a little. “It was…we aren’t supposed to, and people almost walked in on us a few times, and if we go out there’s paparazzi, and there’s so many practices and events, and you’ll have exams soon…it was just getting…hard.”

“Well, so long as it isn’t hard!” Tamamori shouts, loud enough to make Miyata jump, and a real outburst from Tamamori is so rare that Miyata jerks his head up to look without thinking and then is stuck, transfixed by the high color on Tamamori’s cheeks and the way his eyes are glittering. “It’s okay to screw around with somebody even if you’re not supposed to so long as it’s not hard! When it was easy it was all okay, but I guess we better just give up now that it’s hard! Forget it, now that it’s so inconvenient that I lo—”

Tamamori stops himself suddenly, breath catching on the edge of his confession, but it’s too late because Miyata can read it plain on his face anyway.

“You…” Miyata can’t stop the spread of the idiotic grin across his face, even though it makes Tamamori’s fury double as Miyata reaches out to grab Tamamori’s wrists. “You really…”

“No!” Tamamori struggles, voice rising to a frustrated wail as he can’t shake Miyata loose, can’t get away. “I hate you! Let go of me!”

“You do,” Miyata marvels, and he pushes Tamamori against the opposite side of the fake doorway, pinning Tamamori down with his weight and arms tight around his waist and kisses him under the mistletoe for real. As kisses go, it’s desperate and as unpracticed as if it’s been six months since they kissed last instead of six days, but finally Tamamori gives up and wraps his arms around Miyata’s neck, and things get better after that.

“Tell me,” Tamamori demands in between the third and fourth kiss.

“Later,” Miyata promises, chasing Tamamori’s mouth until Tamamori’s head thunks into the wood of the doorway. “That mistletoe is huge, we have to do it right.”

“That sounds hard,” Tamamori teases, trying to turn his head away, but Miyata just runs kisses along Tamamori’s jaw until Tamamori gasps and turns back to meet Miyata’s mouth again.

“That just means I’m doing it right,” Miyata murmurs, working a knee in between Tamamori’s thighs to show just how hard it’s supposed to be.

“FINALLY!” a voice interrupts, and Miyata and Tamamori spring apart, panting and disheveled, to find Shoon grinning at them. “Man, I couldn’t find anybody! You two will sing ‘Another Christmas’ with me, right?”

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