Kis-My-Ft2, If Our Voices Meet

Title: If Our Voices Meet [Miyata/Nikaido]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for potential confession fail.
Summary: Lately Nikaido’s been spending a lot of time with Miyata, and as it turns out, he’s not just fooling around. Also features Senga giving fail romantic advice.
AN: yeska_noka and i have this agreement that if she does all the Yokoo pairings for the Kisumai pairings chart, then I’d do all the Miyata. So here you are. It was kind of fun? I actually like working out how to get all the unusual ebikisu pairings going. Title from the Playzone 2009 song “声を合わせたら.”

If Our Voices Meet

“Yo, Kenpi,” Nikaido says, coming up behind Senga to mess up his hair casually. “Let me spend the night tonight, huh? My grandparents are visiting and my mom’s making me give up my room.”

“Sorry, Nika,” Senga bats Nikaido’s hand away to tilt his head back and gives him an apologetic smile. “I’m going home with Taipi tonight so we can go shopping tomorrow.”

“Tcht, some best friend you are,” Nikaido sighs, giving Senga’s hair a last yank.

“Next time,” Senga soothes, finishing with his shoelaces and hopping up to give Nikaido a big, showy hug. “Promise!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nikaido makes an equally big show of pushing Senga away, “have fun with Taipi, playing tea party or whatever.”

“I’ll show you my tea party,” Fujigaya retorts, leaning in to hook his arm through Senga’s. He drags Senga off before Nikaido can even start to ask what the hell that means, Senga giving him a cheerful wave goodbye.

“You can come hang out at my place,” Miyata offers, and Nikaido turns to find Miyata packing his practice clothes into his bag. “You’ll still have to share, though.”

“Sold,” Nikaido agrees immediately. “At least you won’t snore like a congested elephant.” Nikaido looks down and nudges the heap of bandmate stretched out on the floor with his sneaker. “Or Mitsu.”

“Oi,” Kitayama’s eye cracks open and he grabs Nikaido by the ankle, “I’ll show you my tea party.”

*****

Extricated from their fearless leader’s clutches, Nikaido and Miyata ride the train in companionable silence. The train takes nearly as long to go to Miyata’s middle-of-nowhere as Nikaido’s, but they grab seats after a couple stops, and Nikaido doesn’t mind it. He’s made the trip enough times to be familiar with the route, and when Miyata tugs the new Shounen Jump out of his bag, Nikaido reads along over his shoulder.

Lately he’s been hanging out with Miyata fairly often, and if it’s the sort of thing that would have surprised him a few years ago, by now they’ve all been Kisumai long enough that it’s hardly strange for Nikaido to spend time with any of the other members. They aren’t best friends like Nikaido and Senga are, or even like Miyata and Tamamori are, but the two of them like the same animes sometimes and play the same sorts of video games, and for Nikaido that’s more than enough.

“Watch or play?” Miyata asks as they drop their bags in his bedroom, and Nikaido thinks about it for a second as he glances around Miyata’s familiar posters. A new Gundam one, he notes, and an article about their tour tacked up above Miyata’s desk. It makes him smile a little, Miyata’s pride in their unit.

“Play,” Nikaido decides, settling on the floor while Miyata flips on the PS3 and untangles controllers. Miyata sits cross-legged beside him and drops a controller in his hands as the new fighter-sim loads, and Nikaido doesn’t even bat an eye when Miyata picks the maid character right away. “When are you gonna get an Xbox like a real otaku? ”

“But then how will I play the next Kingdom Hearts?” Miyata laughs. “Ne, watch what happens when I use her hi-kick combo.”

And it’s perfectly comfortable even when Miyata’s brother comes in and demands they plug in the third controller, squishing them tight together in front of the television so that Miyata’s side is warm all along Nikaido’s.

After dinner, Miyata offers Nikaido first bath, and when Miyata returns from his turn still toweling off his hair, Nikaido is sprawled across the futon, tapping at his phone.

“Sending Senga his goodnight mail?” Miyata teases, and Nikaido lifts his eyes just long enough to scowl.

“No, he needs directions to that new hat place in Harajuku,” Nikaido informs him, sending his mail. “He’s taking Taipi tomorrow.”

“Oh really?” Miyata asks, but when the phone chimes with Senga’s reply, his hand darts out like lightning to snatch it out of Nikaido’s. “Sleep tight, Nika-chan,” he reads, his sweet voice warbling with laughter when Nikaido’s glare intensifies. “Chu~~!”

“Shut up, shut up,” Nikaido demands, snatching his phone back and punching Miyata in the shoulder. “Like you aren’t fifty times as gross for Tamamori.”

“Since it’s Tama-chan, it can’t be helped,” Miyata agrees readily, but the way he’s looking steadily at Nikaido makes Nikaido’s bratty retort stick in his throat for a moment. Then Miyata scrunches his eyes up in a smile and offers a cheerful, “Goodnight, Nika-chan,” and the moment ends.

But Nikaido finds himself staring at the ceiling thinking about it for a little while before he can finally fall asleep.

*****

The thing is that everybody, everybody knows that Miyata’s got a thing for Tamamori. It’s impossible not to know, the way Miyata’s constantly on about it, telling Tamamori he likes him or touching him or getting him something from the vending machine or warning anybody else who comes within two meters of Tamamori that Miyata definitely won’t lose to his rivals.

But the next day when Nikaido watches Miyata carry on as usual during their photoshoot, he can’t help but notice that it’s all a bit…not rehearsed exactly, but…well, Nikaido’s never been that great with vocabulary so maybe he doesn’t know the word for it. Still, when Miyata slings an arm around Tamamori’s waist and hangs over his shoulder to ask what’s for lunch today, Nikaido notices that it’s the same showy, eye-scrunched smile as from the night before.

And the tiny one at the corner of Miyata’s mouth when he catches Nikaido watching from across the room, the way his eyes are wide open, that’s entirely different.

“Ne, ne,” Senga asks, appearing out of nowhere at Nikaido’s shoulder, voice sly even though Senga’s anything but, “going after Miyacchi, huh?”

What,” Nikaido splutters, shoving Senga back a couple inches on the couch. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why’s it ridiculous?” Senga wants to know as he cracks open his bento, like they’re talking about nothing more consequential than the weather. “Miyacchi’s hot now, so it’s all good.”

Kento,” Nikaido rolls his eyes, “I know you’ll go after anything with a dick, but honestly, gross. Anyway, he’s all for Tamamori, obviously.”

“Is he?” Senga slurps a couple noodles off his chopsticks. “Then why’s he looking over here?”

Nikaido jerks his head up, but all he sees is Miyata fiddling with the drape of Tamamori’s scarves, and then Senga cracks up.

“Made you look~,” Senga chirps, and just laughs harder when Nikaido punches him a few more times, still cheerful as he punches back. “Eat, Nika, break’s only twenty minutes. Anyway, what’s wrong with going for it? Tama-chan tells him no every time anyway, maybe he’ll fool around in the meantime. At least you know he likes boys, right?”

“…Right,” Nikaido says, staring down at his lunch and wondering why he doesn’t really feel like eating anymore.

He spends the rest of the break with one eye on Miyata, and then afternoon dance practice. Miyata does have a certain appeal, and it’s not just that “he got hot” as Senga so bluntly puts it. It’s more in the strength and grace of his limbs when he dances, the kind that comes from endless hours of practice rather than from natural talent, the kind Nikaido can definitely appreciate. Miyata’s eyes are dark and intense when he’s focused, and it’s far more appealing than how he hides them when he coaxes Tamamori into skating some patterns with him.

Nikaido hasn’t ever really thought about Miyata like that before, but if he’s honest with himself it isn’t hard to imagine, Miyata holding himself up over Nikaido with strong arms, or Miyata looking up at Nikaido with that same intense gaze. And with his nose the size it is…well, even Senga’s right about some things. Sometimes.

Miyata stops skating his pattern suddenly so that Tamamori slams into his back and then sneaks a kiss on Tamamori’s cheek. He darts away, out of reach, when Tamamori makes a grab for him, flexible and quick, laughing as he skates lazily away, Tamamori calling him an idiot with practiced exasperation. The whole thing makes Nikaido’s hackles rise, and he has to look away and take a couple deep breaths for his temper to ease.

He gives it a few days to simmer, trying to wait it out. Crushes come and go, after all, but if anything, his interest just starts to gel. Plus, the more he watches, the more he’s convinced that Miyata’s constant pursuit of Tamamori really is nothing more than just a way to pass the time, just a weird back-and-forth between the two of them that doesn’t mean anything after all. Sure, they’re close, but Nikaido and Senga are close too and it’s not love, not like that, and Nikaido’s starting to see that Miyata squishing Tamamori’s onigiri into a heart isn’t really any different than him calling Senga ‘Kenpi.’

“Problem?” Tamamori asks when he turns from shoving Miyata on his way yet again, and Nikaido can’t wipe off his look of annoyance fast enough.

“No,” Nikaido scowls, then gives Tamamori a once-over with narrow eyes. “Ne, Tama-chan…you’re not just playing hard-to-get, right?”

Tamamori starts to roll his eyes, then seems to realize that Nikaido is serious. He grins, expression all condescending senpai like he’s been honing on the Snowmen. “Aw, Nika-chan got a little crush? Sorry, but I can’t return your feelings~.”

“Not on you, asshole.” Nikaido gives Tamamori a rough shove, sending him rolling a few inches. “As if.”

Wheeling back around on his skates back to Nikaido’s side, Tamamori just laughs. “Good, cause you’re lacking some things I feel are essential in a proper relationship.” He gives Nikaido’s chest a poke and Nikaido slaps his hand away. “But if it’s not me…”

“Never mind, don’t worry about it,” Nikaido says quickly, looking away.

“Mm.” And then Tamamori surprises Nikaido with a genuine smile of encouragement and a punch to the shoulder that’s nothing more than a brush of knuckles. “Word hard, ne? If it’s Nika-chan, it’ll work out.”

“Thanks,” Nikaido grunts, but he means it, and Tamamori’s eyes flash amused understanding as he skates off.

Well, then. If Tamamori’s giving the green light…

“Okay, so,” Nikaido sidles up to Senga and says in an undertone, eyes glued to his sneakers, “maybe I don’t just want to fool around.”

Senga blinks at him, puzzled.

“You know,” Nikaido shrugs a shoulder in Miyata’s general direction, “with…”

Oh!” Senga exclaims, making Nikaido roll his eyes. “One of those. It’s confession, then, right?”

What?” Nikaido splutters, because that’s definitely farther than he’d been thinking of going this afternoon.

“You just said you didn’t want to fool around,” Senga says, like Nikaido’s the idiot. “So you’ll have to tell him, right? How’s Miyacchi supposed to know if you don’t tell him?”

“That’s…” Nikaido starts reluctantly, but then trails off.

He really hates it when Senga’s right like that.

*****

“Hey, so,” Nikaido says next time he’s sitting on Miyata’s floor with a controller in his hand, trying to sound normal and cool and not like his stomach’s trying to crawl out of his throat, “I like you.”

“Mm, me too,” Miyata says, not glancing away from the television or breaking the rhythm of the combo he’s tapping. “Nika-chan’s fun to hang out with.”

“No,” Nikaido sits up a little more on his knees, “I like you. You should be mine.”

Miyata does pause then, and Nikaido’s heart rate doubles as he thumbs the button to freeze the game and then takes a long second before turning to face Nikaido. His expression is neutral, over-casual. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Nikaido crosses his arms so his hands don’t shake and forces himself to look at Miyata directly. “That’s so.”

“Ne, but Nika-chan,” Miyata turns on that big fake smile, which suddenly Nikaido hates beyond all reason, “I’m saving myself for Tama-chan, you know.”

“You are not!” Nikaido explodes, pent-up annoyance and jealousy spilling out, a spike of satisfaction filling his chest when Miyata’s eyes fall back open in surprise. “You’re totally just fooling around with him, it’s just something the two of you do. You say all that stuff about liking him and how he’s so pretty and cute, but it doesn’t really mean anything, and Tamamori like girls anyway! You’re just friends, like me and Kento, and that’s all!”

It suddenly dawns on Nikaido that it sounds rather more like he’s threatening Miyata’s life rather than confessing his affections. He swallows, his nerves rushing back all at once, making it hard to get his words out around them and he drops his eyes to the carpet.

“But this stuff I’m saying,” Nikaido licks his lips, mouth dry, “I mean it. I like you. I’m not…I’m not fooling around.”

Nothing happens for what feels like the longest moment ever, and then Miyata says, “But what if I say I’m not fooling around either, with Tama-chan. What if I say I mean it?”

But when Nikaido looks up, Miyata isn’t giving him that big, fake smile, he’s giving him a real one instead. It’s smaller, but it’s way better, because Nikaido can see Miyata’s eyes and knows him more than well enough to see how pleased they are. He knows Miyata, after all this time, enough to see the answer without Miyata even saying it.

“You don’t,” Nikaido answers, confident.

“Well,” Miyata says, even the tone of his voice betraying him. “Well. Like you and Kento?”

“Just friends,” Nikaido assures, and now he’s grinning too, he can’t help it. “We’re not like that. Ne, Miyacchi,” Nikaido shifts forward, knocking Miyata’s controller out of his hand and crawling into his lap, “I like you.”

“Well,” pleasure looks better on Miyata than all of the Photoshop in the world, making Nikaido’s breath catch as Miyata reaches up to pull Nikaido’s mouth down against his own, “okay, then.”

*****

“Geez, you two are so gross,” Fujigaya says in exasperation.

“Sorry, sorry,” Miyata grins up at Fujigaya, entirely unrepentant with his head pillowed in a comfortable lap. “But I love Tama-chan, after all.”

Tamamori doesn’t even bat an eye, just uses Miyata’s face to lean his magazine against, and Fujigaya moves on to where Yokoo is forcing Kawai to pick up all his wrappers, grumbling about retarded kouhai.

Nothing’s changed really, in the week since he confessed, but Nikaido finds he doesn’t care at all. This thing with Miyata, he likes it being just between them for now, and if the others can’t tell the difference between Miyata’s fake confessions and his real ones, he supposes it’s just because they haven’t ever heard one of the real ones.

Nikaido’s perfectly pleased to think that maybe he’s the only one who’s ever heard one of those.

From under Tamamori’s magazines, Miyata catches Nikaido’s eye and gives him a wink; Nikaido goes back to reading the brochure in his hand, satisfied.

Eventually Tamamori shoves Miyata off to change into his practice sweats and Miyata wanders over to Nikaido, casually leaning over his shoulder.

“Whatcha looking at, Nika-chan?” Miyata asks, and Nikaido lets his eyes flutter shut just a little at the brush of Miyata’s breath against his ear, enjoying the warmth it sends thrumming over his limbs.

“Onsen,” Nikaido answers, holding up the brochure so Miyata can see. “That off-day in a couple days, I thought if you didn’t have any plans…”

“Mm, a romantic first date?” Miyata teases, plucking the brochure out of Nikaido’s hands. Nikaido can see the happiness in his eyes, plain as day, making self-satisfaction fizz in his own chest. That look, he promises himself, he’s going to keep putting it on Miyata’s face over and over, as often as he can. “Sounds like a good plan. Sure you want to waste it on me?”

“Definitely,” Nikaido says, firm and sure. “I definitely do.”

“Well, then, afterwards” Miyata folds the brochure back up and looks Nikaido in the eye, and the satisfaction he was feeling a moment ago melts like a snowflake against the rush of heat that spills over from having Miyata’s eyes focused totally on him, dark and intense, “want to spend the night?”

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