Work Text:
Fuma didn’t get it, he had listened to we on fire hundreds, if not thousands of times, and nothing clicked. He couldn’t imagine how the choreography was going to look, how the music video would come together or what lunés reactions would be. He didn’t think the sound was bad by any means, he just couldn’t see how everything was going to pan out.
He recorded his parts of the song in ernest, he gave it his all but he felt more emotional in the other songs on the EP. He always had a soft spot for a ballad or a rock number; they allowed him to show parts of himself he usually kept hidden from watchful eyes. Ballads made him feel vulnerable in such a seen way and loud abrasive rock heavy songs allowed him to let everything loose in the recording booth. We on fire was different.
It was strong and loud, but also with moments of delicacy that only &team could pull off. This overall sounded different, would be presented differently but at its core it was them, what they were best at, what they were known for. And for Fuma that predictability was making everything feel off.
He came out of the recording booth unusually unsatisfied.
There were other members sitting on the couch outside the room. He gave a smile to Maki who had helped him with his pronunciation. He felt a flash of guilt swirl in his stomach and looked away from the youngest before he could feel too bad for being reliant on someone else.
Four of the members had finished recording before he went in but there were only three people waiting outside. Fuma scanned the bodies and immediately noticed that K’s frame wasn’t amongst them. In fact, Fuma hadn’t seen K all day. He was always doing this or doing that and never had any time for himself anymore. Fuma wondered when the last time K had time just to exist was.
It made him frown. The thought that them all being so busy was a potential reason this whole release felt off. Fuma wanted to take a left at the end of the hallway and head towards the exit and then home to enjoy the hour of free time he had that day. His heart pulled him to the right towards the practice rooms.
They wouldn’t start practice until the following monday, Fuma didn’t even know if the choreography had been finalised yet. He always liked the challenge of learning their increasingly difficult routines - each one pushing them all more towards the edge of their capabilities. It was rewarding to get it right.
The door to the usual practice room the group used was unlocked and Fuma could see the soft glow of a yellow light filtering through the frosted glass. He tried to open it slowly but the creaking of the hinges betrayed him.
Fuma was met with a pair of eyes.
He didn’t see the figure immediately but as soon as they looked at him his eyes softened. K was sitting in the middle of the practice room dressed in full black, with a beanie covering most of his face and jacket zipped up past his chin. Anyone who didn’t know K could have mistaken it for anyone.
But Fuma could tell how much K was smiling by the crinkle next to his eyes and he could almost perfectly time the seconds between every breath. If he was close enough he would be able to tell how long he had been resting for by the beating of his heart. Fuma knew K too well. And he didn’t have to say anything for Fuma to come closer.
K was holding an ipad in his hand that was replaying the same thing over and over again, K in this room maybe only moments ago dancing the same piece of choreography until he got the feel of it right.
Fuma didn’t recognise the moves or the feel of the steps ' what's this for?’ he asked, holding his hound out for the ipad.
K sighed, placing the ipad on the floor and his head half in his hands ‘the new song’ he answered.
Fuma was surprised ‘I didn’t know you were doing anything for that, I thought you didn’t have the time’
This made K laugh because when did he ever have the time for anything ‘I wasn’t going to but something was bothering me about it so I gave some moves a go. What do you think?’
Fuma watched the video loop again. He looked at K analyse the video with so much scrutiny he didn’t know how to respond. This was Fuma’s role, to steady K when he faltered, to be his lighthouse in a storm. It happened far too little for Fuma’s liking; his light was starting to go dim. It had been a while since K had looked at him with so much uncertainty. ‘I think…’
K put all of his attention onto Fuma looking at him right in the eyes. There was a pleading behind them. Their hands wandered closer together on the floor.
‘Will you show me?’ Fuma requested in a quiet tone, without even realising he had grabbed hold of K’s hand.
K stayed still for a second, taking a deep breath while squeezing Fuma’s hand, like he was grounding himself on an anchor. And then he nodded using Fuma’s hand as a guide to stand up.
K stood on the opposite side of the room to the mirrors seeing the back of Fuma in the reflection across from him. He nodded at him and Fuma pulled out his phone as quickly as he could to play the song he had. It was just the demo, nothing had been fully finalised. K’s work ethic demanded he got this choreography itch out as soon as possible before it consumed him under the wave of everything else that was expected of him.
The song started from the beginning as K didn’t tell him where to play from. The part of choreography K was working on was clearly something very small and specific but they both let the full song play anyway.
As if it was as simple to him as walking, K's body started to dance. It was all freestyle, long limbs falling perfectly together and chest moving freely to the rhythm. Fuma tried not to follow the movements from K’s head to his feet, waiting patiently for the one part the older was fixated on.
It was Fuma’s part. It was perfectly timed movements to the background beat of the music, he could imagine the other member’s bodies following his command like he was the conductor of an orchestra. The part came directly after K’s own part and he had prepared nothing for that but Fuma could tell he wanted to test something out. He let the song play again.
This time he watched how every one of K’s muscles contracted when he moved, watching his thigh muscles as he positioned into a squat. When K’s own part came Fuma looked at him intensely as he let his body move the way he had pictured in his head when hearing it for the first time.
K always felt burdened by how much people expected of him, in terms of personality but also performance, always overconscious of not wanting to be seen as too confident or greedy for the centre. Fuma’s gaze encourages him to be selfish.
K rolled his hips in a way that didn’t match the vibe of the song at all, running his hand down his chest in an attempt at making Fuma laugh. When he looked up Fuma was staring right at him, a smile making its way onto his face.
Fuma loved watching K move. He had always been mesmerised by how he had so much control and fluidity in everything he did. He knew exactly what K’s body looked like in the dead of night when it was only them. This felt like those moments when the movements were just theirs.
After his own part had finished K didn’t continue into Fuma’s part of the song instead holding his hand out towards him to help the younger get up. Fuma wanted to see the part of the choreography again, wanted K to guide him through exactly how he wanted him to execute it, wanted K to look at him with a proud smile and rewarded with at least a kiss on the cheek.
K didn’t let go of Fuma’s hand linking their fingers together as he took his phone from his hand, replaying the song from the beginning.
When K’s part came the older brought Fuma’s hand to his chest, his own fingers still gripping tightly. Fuma wanted to take a second to feel K’s heartbeat beneath his fingertips but he felt his hand being pulled lower on K’s chest.
Fuma knew exactly what it felt like beneath K’s top, skin smooth and cold to the touch and goosebumps scattered across and Fuma could never be sure if that was his own doing or the chill of whatever room they were in.
The practice room felt warm, Fuma’s hands felt warm in K’s grasp and he wanted to touch K’s skin to warm that up as well. He pulled his hand in the direction of K’s waist pulling the older one in closer. K let go and used his own hand to play with the back of Fuma’s hair.
‘This is getting long’ he said like he was far away thinking of something he couldn’t quite place.
‘Do you like it?’ Fuma asked, and it sounded far too genuine to be an offhanded question. K hummed in response, not taking his hands away.
Fuma kept his hand around K’s waist, admiring how he could almost cradle it all and used his idle hand to run up and down K’s body.
He had done this a million times before, taking seconds and hours to worship every perfect imperfection on K’s skin. Every mole no one ever saw has been kissed by him. He knew the spacing between every rib and exactly what to do to make K gasp.
There wasn’t an inch of K’s skin available for him to touch so he only had his memory of what it felt like. K was drumming his fingers against Fuma’s neck, placing them around his pulse. His hands were so warm and he knew his own were freezing cold.
He looked at K with desperation in his eyes, begging in every way but verbally to be able to touch. K looked at him defiantly telling Fuma that he had to get what he wanted himself.
Hurriedly Fuma started to unzip the front of K’s jacket to be met with nothing underneath. He pulled it off and that it fell onto the floor, silent other than the deafening clang of the zip.
Fuma grabbed K’s body like a starving man, his muscles had gotten more prominent but his skin was as soft as ever. Fuma thought about how his own skin had blemishes and callouses around his arms and hands and how different that was to the water that surrounded K.
‘Can I show you your choreography?’ K whispered into his ear as his head was placed over his ribs listening intently to the song from his heart beating.
K started to take off Fuma’s flannel before he could respond but he didn’t even blink.
‘So first you come forward from the back and hit on the beat with your fist like this’ K explained while demonstrating the move. Fuma felt how cold his arms were from them being exposed to the air in the practice room. He wasn’t even paying attention to what K was saying, imagining his hands around K’s thighs and pinning him against the mirror to remember exactly what he felt like.
‘You aren’t paying attention’ K whined right into Fuma’s ear knowing that sound would get his attention more than him trying to go over the choreography. ‘Fumaaa pay attention to me.’
Fuma knew exactly what this meant but he would choose to be oblivious as long as he could manage. ‘I’m comfortable’ he said dreamily, snuggling more into K’s bare chest.
K grabbed the back of Fuma’s neck and brought him up to his face. ‘Kiss me’ he demanded and Fuma felt the want in his own stomach growing as he smashed his lips into K’s forcing him to scurry backwards until he hit the mirror.
On the impact they pulled apart with a gasp. Fuma looked at K and wanted to take the time to map out every kiss along his body but remembered the unlocked door on the other side of the room.
He pulled K’s pants down as the older allowed his hands to explore his arms. ‘You’re beautiful you know’ he sang between gasps of air. And Fuma gulped, he did know that, in a broad sense but he had a habit of forgetting. With K like this he found it easy to remember.
He remembered exactly what it was like the first time he felt K around him, it wasn’t an act, it wasn’t for show, it was Yudai and Fuma sharing a moment of love. This was passion, heavy and filled with something burning.
‘I love you’ Fuma panted before falling to his knees and kissing along the inside of K’s legs, stopping to lick against his thighs feeling how they contracted with every movement.
Fuma hooked his fingers around K’s boxers and pulled them down so they pooled around his ankles with his trousers. K took hold of his hair guiding him around his dick. Fuma was good at this, he had done it enough times to know exactly how to push K to his limit without falling over it. He used his tongue to bring harsh gasps out of K causing the older to pull on his hair making his own problem that much harder to ignore.
K’s knees buckled and Fuma used his hands to steady him, one firmly on his waist and the other grabbing onto his thigh massaging along to the rhythm he bobbed his head against K. His breathing started to become more erratic and that’s when Fuma let go.
When Fuma was back at eye level with K they were glazed over, cloudy with want and desire. Fuma wishes he could remember exactly what K looked like when he had let go like this forever, down to the way his hair was sprawled across the mirror.
Fuma was sure his own hair was a mess but he took a few moments flattening the bird's nest that was K’s hair. He allowed both of them to get their breathing back under control before using his hand to rile K back up again.
As soon as Fuma hand made contact K’s back arched ‘Fuma please’ K begged and neither of them really knew what for. Whatever happened in here had to be quick, it had to end soon because the light was on and K was missing for their song recording.
Fuma quickened his pace and felt the way K shook from how he was slumped against him. K’s head was on his shoulder and he could hear every hiccup and breath in perfect clarity. K saying his own name was a song he would never get tired of. Fuma’s other hand was wrapped tightly around his hips, guiding them to be in rhythm with his hand.
There was something wet on his shoulder and when he looked he saw K crying ‘Yudai what is it?’ he asked, mildly panicked. K didn’t cry like this. ‘Are you hurt?’ K shook his head.
‘I’m happy’ he confessed and Fuma was confused, these didn’t look like happy tears. ‘I’m happy that you are here’ and in that moment Fuma realised that all of this was the closest thing K had had to a break in months. It was the first time he had even a second to let loose and he had chosen to share it with him.
Fuma continued his rhythm, increasing it as K’s cries got more intense until he came with a sob. Fuma pulled him into a hug immediately ignoring the cum on his hands and coating his trousers.
K was letting out small hiccups and the only thing helping was Fuma running circles against his back. His back muscles shuddered and Fuma knew exactly where to apply pressure to ease the hurt.
‘Thank you’ K repeated through ragged breaths, saying it like it was a mantra but so quiet it was only ever for Fuma to hear. He didn’t respond. He thought about how in K’s moments of isolation he thought of him.
‘I love you’ he said softly, cupping K’s face to kiss him delicately like he had never tasted that lip balm before. ‘You need to record your parts though’ he gently reminded, causing both of them to laugh.
K handed Fuma a tissue before getting himself dressed again and already Fuma missed the sight and touch of K’s skin.
‘Practice that choreography for me won’t you’ K said as he left the room, turning the light off on his way out, knowing Fuma preferred to focus in the dark.
Fuma listened to the song again and when his part in the demo came he smiled, running his mind through the steps K had designed especially for him. He committed it to memory and went home knowing this new song was going to be something special.