Kis-My-Ft2, Has Been Love

Title: Has Been Love [Tamamori/Miyata]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Summary: Miyata asks Tamamori what it’s all about, since you don’t get married 11 times for nothing.
AN: Thanks to my Kis-My-World DVDs and Tamamiya, you get this.

Has Been Love

“Hey, you’ve got a new mole on your ass,” Tamamori said, looking down at Miyata while toweling dry his hair. Stretched out on his stomach across Tamamori’s bed, Miyata hummed noncommittally. Tamamori reached down and poked it. “Right there.”

“Is it cute?” Miyata asked. He wiggled his butt a little. Tamamori eyed it, a perfectly round dark spot just next to Miyata’s butt dimple. It looked like a mangaka had come along and drawn it on purpose.

“Not even a little,” Tamamori informed him. He lobbed his damp towel in the direction of the bathroom and flopped down into bed next to Miyata. “It’s even stupider than you are, usually.”

“Wow, it must be pretty cute for you to be that mean about it,” Miyata chuckled, sliding over so that they were curled more in the center of the bed. Tamamori ignored him and hummed in pleasure at how warm the sheets were from Miyata lounging around in them. “I’m sure it’s not as cute as you, Yuuuta~.”

“Don’t compare me to your butt mole,” Tamamori grumbled, but he let Miyata make it up to him with a kiss. He reached for the heater remote control on the bedside table, almost fumbling it to the floor before he got a good grip, but eventually he managed to turn off the heat. He wouldn’t need it since his own personal heater had already warmed up. Flipping off the lamp as well, Tamamori rolled over as Miyata tugged the blankets over both of them.

It took them a minute to settle, Miyata expressing mild surprise that Tamamori wanted to be the big spoon, but perfectly willing once Tamamori wrapped an arm securely around Miyata’s chest and found the perfect spot for his nose against the back of Miyata’s neck. The shorter haircut was okay, Tamamori supposed, since it was useful at the moment.

Things were quiet and comfortable, and Tamamori fully expected them to just fall asleep like that.

“Yuta?” Miyata asked after a minute though. Tamamori cracked an eye open even though it was too dark to see anything, because Miyata’s voice sounded a little serious.

“Mh?”

“Are you going to tell me what it’s about?” Miyata asked.

Tamamori pressed his head a little deeper into the pillow and thought about faking a snore. “What what’s about?”

“You know what.”

Tamamori did know what. Their duet was called BL for fuck’s sake, and it was about how they were going to be together forever and they had gotten married on stage, and most incriminatingly of all, Tamamori had told the costume designer to purposely flatter Miyata’s figure more than his own.

After a few seconds of silence, Miyata said, “You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t ready. But it’s something. Just a cute song might have been nothing, but this isn’t nothing.”

Tamamori squirmed, just a little, but Miyata had definitely felt it. He thought about not answering, but really, did it matter if Miyata knew? “It’s your present. For our anniversary.”

“Our anniversary is in July. Also I think the second year anniversary is cotton, not coming out on stage at Tokyo Dome.”

“Not that anniversary,” Tamamori said.

“Well, you agreed to go out with me in October and our sex anniversary is in January?” Miyata went on. “So I’m out of anniversaries. I give up?”

“It’s…” Tamamori gritted his teeth, not sure why this was so hard for some reason. “It’s ten years. This year is ten.”

“Ten?” Miyata sounded really perplexed by then. Tamamori felt the light brush of Miyata’s fingers up the outside of his forearm. “Ten years since what?”

“Figure it out, jerk,” Tamamori grumbled, mouth pressed against Miyata’s shoulder.

“Since we…met?” Miyata guessed. Tamamori squeezed him a little more tightly rather than answer. That was close enough to the right answer that hopefully Miyata wouldn’t press any deeper into it. For a few seconds it was quiet, but then Miyata asked, “Since then? Did you really know?”

“I didn’t know I’d be stuck with you forever and have to marry you in Tokyo Dome while embarrassing softcore photos of us went up on the VTR, no. Someone should have warned me so I could have quit.”

Miyata rolled over, careful not to dislodge Tamamori’s arm over his waist. Tamamori’s eyes had adjusted enough that he could make out the vague outline of Miyata’s expression as Miyata settled his head on the pillow close to Tamamori’s. “What did you know?”

“That you were important,” Tamamori said. He let his eyes flutter shut and saw the Miyata that he had met all that time ago, shy smile and silly JE mullet and big nose. Hands that were always warm when they put bandaids on Tamamori’s scrapes, gentle against Tamamori’s bruises. “That you never said I was too dumb or too careless. That you always saw me then like everybody sees me now.”

“Yuta,” Miyata whispered, voice touched.

“Don’t cry. This is already embarrassing enough. Tell me something embarrassing about you too, that’s how this works.”

“I can’t possibly top love at first sight. That’s what you’re saying, right? I think it took me like a week, at least. You were trying to change too quickly and you zipped your shirt into your pants and Senga broke the zipper on your jeans trying to yank it free and you had to go the whole way home on the train with your bag held in front of you.”

Tamamori reached over to pinch Miyata’s side, hard. “It was supposed to be an embarrassing story about YOU, not me, asshole.”

“Hmm, this is a really good present, though.” Miyata slid in closer, tucking his head in against Tamamori’s shoulder properly. “Getting to sing with you. Holding your hand in front of everybody. But I don’t have anything for you. And even if I did, I really couldn’t top this. This is what it feels like to be Tsubasa-kun, I guess.”

“It’s not that kind of present.” Tamamori dug his chin into the top of Miyata’s head a little, thinking about what he wanted to say. “It’s the best I can do, for now.”

“Eh?” Miyata asked.

“Like normal people just take each other’s names, right? They live in the same place, they get married and throw a party so everybody sees, hey, I’m this guy’s, so back off. They wear a ring so everybody knows, even you only meet them for a moment, that there’s another person who put that ring on there. It’s frustrating because I can’t do any of that. So this is the best I could do. Even if most people think it’s fan-service or joke or gross. Maybe I won’t ever get to make you Tamamori Toshiya, but at least everybody saw that you asked me to marry you and I said yes.”

“Oh god,” Miyata said weakly, obviously crying all over Tamamori’s shoulder. “Thank goodness you didn’t tell me that before we filmed the last concert.”

“I’m regretting telling you now already,” Tamamori said, but he ran fingers through Miyata’s hair while he sniffled and tried to pull himself together. “Anyway, they let me do all that. Who knows what they’ll let us do in five more years?”

Miyata started snickering, and Tamamori narrowed his eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I was just picturing you in Johnny-san’s office, asking for my hand in marriage.”

“Uuuuugh.” Tamamori shoved at Miyata. “I’m never doing that! Scary!”

“I’ll come with you,” Miyata promised. “We’ll go in together, hand in hand~.”

“Don’t sing our stupid song at me like it’ll get you out of trouble,” Tamamori grumbled. Miyata was still laughing as he rolled over and snuggled back against Tamamori in their original position. “I’m going back to tell myself not to fall in love with you even a little.”

“That’s fine. You’d never listen to yourself anyway, even if you did get a time machine.”

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