Banany's fic journal

Title: Mine (Part 8/9)
Pairings: Golf/Mike, Golf/Mike/Yamapi
Word count: 5,288
Rating: R
Summary: Golf and Mike had always been closer to one another than anyone else. Yamapi threatened that.


Mike wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried when he saw that Yamapi wasn't at dinner. By the time that Golf told him that they were all going to eat - in the hotel restaurant again, since everyone was exhausted after dancing practice - Mike had long since stopped crying, and had even washed his face to make sure that there was no evidence.

At first, after the two of them and the four members of KITTY had gone down, Mike hadn't paid Yamapi's absence much notice. When he hadn't arrived by the time everyone began to order, he couldn't stop himself from nudging his brother and inquiring.
"Hey, Golf, where's Tomo?" He asked, trying not to sound too anxious. It wouldn't do for his brother to get suspicious. Or jealous.
Golf looked up from the menu (it had pictures, fortunately, so there wouldn't be any nasty surprises when their food arrived).
"I have no idea." He turned in his chair to face Kitayama, "Ne, where's Yamashita-kun?"

"Mm!" Totsuka made a sound that got all of their attention, and almost managed to spit out the water he was drinking in the process. After swallowing, he said something in Japanese that Golf and Mike didn't understand, before saying slowly, "Yamapi... Not hungry, he said."

Golf mimed having a heart attack, which seemed to amuse everyone else at the table. Yamapi's fondness for food wasn't as extreme as Masuda Takahisa's, but he wasn't known to say no to it, and it frequented his conversations. So, while everyone else was just surprised, Mike felt a little worried. He was almost one hundred percent sure that what he'd told Yamapi was the reason that he hadn't come down to eat with them, rather than a lack of appetite. Of course he kept this to himself, while he and Golf both ordered some strange sort of omelette thing.

Dinner continued as a normal affair, and both the brothers and the four KITTY members attempted conversation, but it was limited. Mostly, they spoke in their own respective languages and ate more than they talked. In the end, it was Golf who ended up saying, "It's kind of lonely without Tomo here, isn't it."
"Yeah." Mike nodded, "It is more lively with him around."

He'd never really noticed until now, how much Yamapi worked to keep the communication going between them. It wasn't like his English was any better than Totsuka's or Kitayama's or any of the other's was. It wasn't as though any of the Thai he could speak was good for anything other than greeting people and making robberies. Mike smiled a little, around a mouthful of his food. Yamapi worked hard for them. He'd always known that, but until now, he hadn't realized just how much.
It made him want to double any efforts he made to make him feel better about the bombshell he'd dropped earlier.

Unfortunately, there was one large foreseeable problem; if he hadn't felt like coming down to dinner, no doubt because he didn't want to see Mike or his brother, why would he let him into his room? He'd probably take one look at him through the peephole, and refuse to open the door.
Mike pondered the problem for a second. Then he remembered another time when he and Golf had been staying in a hotel in Thailand. They'd both gone shopping, and then they'd gone back to Golf's room afterwards, and Mike had left all the things he'd bought in there. They'd gone out again later, but Mike had come back alone, and he'd asked for the wrong key so he could get his stuff out of his brother's room. He could do the same thing now, right? Ask for the key to Yamapi's room and get in there without having to worry about him deliberately not answering the door.
It seemed like it would work, Mike decided, and returned to eating his dinner with slightly more vigour than before.

---

He couldn't see any spots on the roof on his hotel room. In fact, it just seemed like one great expanse of white, spreading out above him like a vast snowfield. A vast, very flat snowfield...
Okay, so this staring at the ceiling thing wasn't really helping to distract him at all. It was just that Yamapi needed something - any stupid little thing - to focus on instead of the thought of Mike and Golf and everything he'd just found out about. When he thought about it, it was like a tidal wave of information, huge and frightening; something that he had no power over.

He couldn't think about it, because the more he did, the more it felt like he was losing control, and that frightened him. He was used to leading, used to being ten steps ahead, and when he didn't have that, it felt like he had nothing. It was like everything was out of his reach. Everything was impossible. And what scared him even more than being unable to stop what was happening, was that if he could, he didn't know if he'd want to.

It was more than how those two seemed to happy when they were together. Of course he didn't want to get in the way of that. But it was also...
No. No, no, he had to take his mind off this, because if he paused to think about it, to really think about it, in his mind he could see Mike arching into his brother's hands. He could see Golf teasingly, agonizingly slowly, unbuttoning his little brother's shirt. He could hear Mike's flirtatious murmurs as his hands travelled all over Golf, lower and lower until...

Yamapi found his hand resting on his pants in a very awkward place. He knew he should stop. He knew that thinking about this was disturbing and wrong. But in his mind, he could still imagine Mike, one of Golf's legs thrust between his thighs, begging in a voice just above a whisper for things that made Yamapi's heartbeat speed up.

He had his belt undone before he even had time to think about what he was doing. In his mind, Golf groaned as Mike wriggled against him in a manner far too enticing for someone still so young. Somehow, Yamapi found himself both and embarrassed and excited at the same time, unable to stop the direction of his fantasy, and he wondered if what they did had been anything like the way he was imagining it now. He wondered if it was Mike or Golf who'd been on top. What position they'd done it in.

By this time, Yamapi had nothing but his t-shirt and socks left on, and the rest of his clothes were cast carelessly to the floor. The imaginary Golf, on top of Mike, whispered wicked things into his little brother's ear, and the usual gabbly Thai words he spoke sounded sultry and seductive.
'Do you like it?' He imagined Golf cooing, 'Want more?' And Mike moaned in response that he loved it. Wanted more. Harder. Deeper.

Yamapi moaned in time with Mike, and the volume and desperation of the sound increased as he moved his hand, faster and faster. Somewhere in the back of his head, he wondered with his last left over grain of logic if it was possible to hear him outside the door. Then, even that thought was gone, and all he had left was the image of Golf on top of, inside of, his brother, and the jerky movement of his hand.
That was all he wanted left.

By the time he finished, he was flushed and sweaty, and felt even hotter when he realized what he'd just done. Part of him wondered if he should feel guilty for it, but no emotion save for a trickle of satisfaction came. Yamapi closed his eyes and let his pillows swallow him up.

---

"Want to come back to my room?" Golf asked Mike in a low voice as they abandoned their dinner table. His tone and expression clearly explained what he intended to do with Mike if he answered 'yes', and under other circumstances, he would have been glad to. Tonight, however, he had other plans that took priority.
"I don't think I can take another night in your room. I'd probably break." He said, trying to keep the tone of conversation light, and his decline as painless as possible. Golf reached over to ruffle his hair, and Mike felt the same familiar warmth his brother always caused to bubble up in the pit of his stomach.
"We don't have to do anything..." Golf looked around to make sure that there were no one who looked like they could understand them lurking around, before finishing with a perverse wiggle of his eyebrows, "... strenuous."

"Later." Mike said, giving his brother a gentle, friendly push. "We don't want anyone getting suspicious, right? We shouldn't even be talking about it out here."
Golf nodded and rolled his eyes.
"Okay, mom. I get it."
Mike nearly replied with, 'eww' to that, because Golf would never do what they'd done last night with their mom. But then he remembered that they were family too, and instead chose to say, "I'll come see you later tonight, okay?"
Golf nodded, and with one last grin at his brother, headed to the elevator.

Mike waited until the doors had closed before heading off to the check-in desk. He hoped that they didn't have extra security measures when it came to giving out spare keys to the rooms of pop stars or something, but the woman behind the desk just smiled at him - perhaps recognized him - when he said he'd shut his key in his room, mistaking his nervousness for embarrassment. The plan went off without a hitch.
'Then again,' Mike thought, 'that was the easy part, wasn't it?'
Once this was over, he had the task of talking to a probably very mentally unprepared Yamapi. God knew what that would be like; it was hard enough communicating as it was.

No one else was with Mike when he rode up in the elevator, and he made sure it stayed that way in the corridor as he slid the key into the lock. Everything seemed to be going well so far. However, despite all the planning and self pep-talk he'd put himself through, he certainly wasn't prepared for the sight that met him.

Yamapi's first mistake had been that he hadn't believed it could possibly be his door opening. His second mistake, upon hearing Mike's voice and assessing that it had been his door after all, had been freezing in shock instead of moving to cover himself. It was so obvious what he'd been up to as well, from the position he was lying in, to the fact that he was in nothing but socks and a shirt.
From the moment Mike set eyes on him, he turned bright pink and started to gibber in Thai. Yamapi had turned a similar shade and started to stutter excuses in Japanese. It would have made quite a comical scene, but neither of them were really in the right state to notice this. Mike was the first to calm down and realize that Yamapi couldn't understand a word he was saying, and blurted, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Talk! I want to talk!" a few decibels more loudly than necessary. He looked like he was on the verge of covering his eyes with his hands.

Yamapi nodded dumbly; although sound had stopped coming out, but he hadn't stopped his mouth from moving yet. Then he realized that his lower half was still completely exposed and moved to cover it.
"Please... wait. There!" He gestured frantically to the bathroom, and Mike nodded back just as dumbly, then practically threw himself inside, slamming the door behind him. He leant against the sink, and it took him a few moments to realize that he was breathing fairly heavily. He'd just walked in on Yamapi relaxing after... after...

He stopped that line of thought immediately. Half because he was too shy to even think about the issue, and half because his body was having a worryingly strong reaction to it. He splashed some water on his face, hoping that it would cool him off a bit, and was in the middle of drying off when Yamapi walked in, refusing to meet his eyes. He muttered something about washing his hands, before proceeding to do so, and then walked out of the bathroom again without another word.

Mike figured that it was okay to follow him out, so he trailed behind, slowly like a nervous child. Yamapi went straight back to his bed and lay down again, looking up at the ceiling, rather than anywhere near Mike. Mike went and sat in a chair facing him, feeling awkward. He wasn't really exuding waves of encouragement or enthusiasm about having a conversation, and Mike swallowed. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure what he was going to say, and it looked like Yamapi didn't even want him here. What was he thinking? Maybe he should just leave, get his brother to help him out later and let Yamapi be for now. Even if Golf got mad at him for telling at first, he'd definitely help out, right?

Right.
Golf would definitely help. Definitely. And Mike would have ended up turning to him and facing away from his problems again. He always sought out his brother for comfort and help, never taking care of things himself. And now when he was on the verge of doing something on his own, he was going to run to Golf again? Since arriving in Japan, Mike had come to depend on Yamapi too, and he'd helped him so many times already. Mike knew that now was the right time to return the favour.

"Tomo... Angry?" He asked, saying the last word in English, having completely forgotten it in Japanese. Yamapi didn't say anything for a long time, didn't even give the slightest sign that he'd even been listening, and Mike was about to repeat himself, when Yamapi sighed and sat up.
"Angry?" He asked, "Because... you saw me?"
Whether he was talking about being walked in on in his previous compromising position or not, Mike wasn't sure. He shook his head anyway.
"No... because... Me and Golf."
"Oh..." Yamapi paused to worry his bottom lip between his teeth, "No. I am surprise. But I am not angry."
Technically, that didn't solve any problems, but Mike felt faint with relief anyway. He lips shaped themselves into a smile, and his feelings were clear it in. Yamapi seemed startled by the reaction.
"Good." Mike said. "I am happy."

"Happy?" Yamapi repeated, also in Japanese, regarding Mike with an expression that seemed both gentle and lost. He looked beautiful, and Mike realized with a skip of his heart, that his feelings for Yamapi hadn't changed at all.
"Yeah. I am happy. I think... I thought... you hate me." Mike admitted, looking a bit embarrassed. Yamapi made a sound of disagreement.
"No. I can't hating. Because you're my friend."
It was just a simple fact, spoken with simple words but somehow it meant the world to both of them.
"Thank you." Mike replied, "I'm glad that... I said truth."
They sat in companionable silence for a while, before Mike remembered that he'd promised to go and see Golf. With one more smile in Yamapi's direction, he said, "I go now."

Watching Mike get up from his chair, Yamapi found that he was glad he'd been told the truth as well. It let him know that Mike trusted him. It meant that he cared enough to want Yamapi to know. And if Mike had done that for him, he wanted to do the same.
"Wait." He said, and took a deep breath to steady himself, "I something want to say too."
Mike stopped mid-motion, and when he faced Yamapi, his eyes seemed impossibly innocent and clueless.
"Yes?" He asked, sounding completely unassuming. It was almost enough to make Yamapi change his mind about telling him anything. Almost.

"Um," He began intelligently, wishing that his English was better so he could phrase this in a slightly less blunt fashion. "I like Golf too."
Mike stared at Yamapi as though he'd just announced that he'd killed Golf, rather than that he liked him.
"What? Tomo likes Golf?" He stopped to think about it for a moment, then motioned between the two of them, "The same?"
"Yes. Same as you." He admitted. Mike still looked stunned, and there were still no other emotions showing on his face yet.
"From... when?" Mike asked softly, and he seemed to calm down. Yamapi was pleased to note that he didn't seem particularly upset by the information. He felt less worried about discussing it now.
"Before you." He answered, and then quickly added, "But now... Mike too. I like you too. A lot."

Mike nodded, but didn't speak. He seemed to be absorbing the new information. Then to Yamapi's relief, he smiled again; it was smaller than usual, but it looked genuine, which put his mind at ease.
"Wow." Mike said, shaking his head in amazement.
"Yeah." Yamapi replied. "Wow."
And for some reason, they actually found this funny, and ended up laughing until both their stomachs hurt. Mike forgot about going to his brother's room, and stayed with Yamapi, just sitting in the same chair as before. They didn't need to be in contact right now; it was one another's presence that they wanted.

A few hours passed, during which they just talked and laughed, teaching each other new words and telling stories. Sometimes the results of trying to communicate in a foreign language were even funnier than what they were trying to say. Mike was starting to feel better than he had for a little while, when he was interrupted in the middle of a sentence by a knock on the door. Yamapi looked surprised, obviously not expecting another visitor.
"I will." Mike said, pointing at the door, then getting up to answer it. If he'd considered it a little before hand, remembered where he was supposed to be right now, he may have expected to find Golf on the other side. But as it was, he didn't stop to think, didn't expect anything, and seeing his brother outside surprised him.
Golf had a smile on his face before he realized who was letting him in. When he noticed, it dropped off immediately, leaving him with a blank expression.

"Oh." Was all he said, before taking a step back, "Oh. I get it. I can be really dumb sometimes." He grinned at his brother, a plainly fake grin, and Mike felt a gnawing sensation in his stomach.
"Golf, please, don't take this the..."
"No, it's... look, it's fine, okay?" His brother cut him off, "I won't be such an ass about it this time. It's just... damn, Mikey, I thought that you and I were... yeah. Well. I guess I really jumped to conclusions about that." He laughed. The sound of it made Mike feel sick.

"Golf, why are you here?" He asked pointedly, much unlike his usual self. To tell the truth, he was tired of his usual self, anyway.
"Well, you were going to come see me, right?" Golf said that part as though it were a joke, "But you didn't, so I went to see you. You didn't answer, so I figured you were sleeping, but when I rang your room phone, you didn't answer either. And we both know you can't sleep through that sort of thing." He laughed, uneasy and embarrassed, as though Mike had been playing a trick which he'd only just figured out, "I mean, this is the last place I checked, of course, but you weren't anywhere else so... yeah. I was really hoping you wouldn't be. But I'll go now, okay?"
He took another step back, and when Mike opened his mouth to try and say something, Golf interrupted again.
"Thanks for last night, though. Really. It meant a lot to me." And then he turned and started walking away. It was pathetic, really, Mike thought. He'd never seen his brother so defeated. The sight of Golf giving up made him nauseous.

"Golf." He called to his brother's retreating back. He was desperate to stop him from walking away. Desperate to make him do anything other than give up, "Tomo knows about us."
It had the desired effect. Golf froze, and his shoulders visibly stiffened before he turned around and strode right back.
"About us? You mean he knows about last night?" He pushed past Mike, into the room, and shut the door behind them. "You didn't tell him did you? What the hell were you thinking, are you crazy?" His voice quavered with disbelief, bordering on anger, but Mike couldn't help feeling that it was ten times better than the Golf from just moments ago.

"But he says he doesn't mind, and I wanted to tell him the truth."
"You wanted to tell him the truth?" Golf asked, incredulous, "What about me? Shouldn't you have asked if I was okay with it before you went around telling the truth? I mean, I trust mom but I wouldn't ever tell her about this."
Mike felt himself wilting under his brother's anger, and his voice sounded meek as he tried to defend himself, "That's not exactly the same thing..."
Golf took a deep breath, finally noticing Yamapi hovering nearby, watching them intently. He made an attempt to calm himself.
"I know. It's totally different, but... geez, Mike, it's not a smart thing to do. If he doesn't mind, that's lucky. But what if he did?"
"I know. I'm sorry." That was when Mike noticed Yamapi was near them as well, watching with a worried face. He wondered if he was worried that the two of them were fighting, or if he'd heard his name and thought that Mike was telling his brother that Yamapi fancied him.

Then he stopped. Was telling Golf about that such a bad idea? If he thought about it, it seemed that everything would be a lot easier if Golf could accept Yamapi's feelings. This seemed far too bold, he thought. Far too bold, especially for him, but the idea of all three of them being able to be together, happy...
"Actually, Tomo told me something really interesting tonight." Mike said.
"Really?" Golf's eyes darted from Mike's face, to Yamapi's, who he noticed looked very nervous. It made him wonder what Mike could possibly have to say. Yamapi was usually far more calm and in control than he looked right now. It had to be something big. "Are you going to tell me what?"

Mike fidgeted with his sleeve, still trying to wrap his head around whether or not this was a good plan. His head told him that it could either work out really well or really badly; Golf could have a fit and refuse to work with Yamapi anymore, although that seemed a little far fetched. Despite the way that Golf sometimes acted, he was still a professional. However, it could definitely affect the group dynamic, because no matter how professional Golf wanted to be, he couldn't control his feelings. On the other hand, if Golf accepted it... if he liked it... well, Mike didn't dare to hope.
His heart told him to go for it, the same way it had when he'd kissed Golf the other night. But then again, it wasn't as though his life was some kind of evening drama. Sometimes when he didn't listen to what his head was telling him, it ended badly. Just following his emotions didn't work; they weren't always right.

"I don't know." Mike replied, voice small, "It's Tomo's secret, so I... I don't know."
"You told him my secret - our secret - without my permission. This is only fair, Mike."
"I don't think it works quite like that." Mike replied, but Golf's firm stare didn't waver. He finally relented. "It's... well, it's about you. Tomo told me something about you."
"About me?" Golf was lost as to what Yamapi could have told Mike about him that he didn't already know himself. Much less something that Mike would think was so important.
"Yeah... Alright. I'm going to tell you, but please. Don't freak out or anything, okay?"

Golf nodded, facial expression giving away just how impatient he was. Mike exhaled slowly, as though he was giving himself time to prepare.
"Tomo... he likes you Golf." Mike said, "The way he likes me. The way I love you." He stopped and waited for a reaction.

Blank. Golf felt blank. If Mike or Yamapi had said anything after that, he didn't hear it. It was like he'd just been knocked clean off his mental feet; like he'd been hit with a truck of information and gone flying. He couldn't believe it. Sure, he and Yamapi had been getting along pretty well during the time they'd spent together, but Yamapi had never given any indication that he wanted to be more than just friends.
"Tomo." His mouth was moving, but it felt like it was some other person talking through him, because at the moment, he could barely do anything. Barely think. "Is it true?"

Yamapi seemed surprised that he was being addressed.
"What is?" He asked. It was only then that it occurred to whoever was moving Golf's mouth for him that Yamapi couldn't have understood much other than his own name in his and Mike's conversation.
"You like me," He explained, tone somewhat deadpan, "Is it true?"
Yamapi breathed in sharply and his head whipped around towards Mike. Mike lowered his eyes and flushed, guilt apparent on his face.
"I'm sorry." He said, "Golf is..." And then, unable to form the sentence he wanted, gave up and lapsed into silence. Yamapi stared at him helplessly.

"Mike, why..." Then he realized that Golf was still waiting. Still watching him, and Yamapi couldn't tell how he felt at all.
"Yeah." He admitted, "True."
The room seemed too small all of a sudden, like all of them were crowded in much too close together. Yamapi felt an over powering need to sit down. This was all far too much, too soon. He'd been working with the brothers for quite a while now, and he'd be with them for some time longer. But all of this, the sudden attraction to Golf, his relationship with Mike, everything that he'd found out today, it had all happened in such quick succession, it was almost as though it had been planned. And it was too much, even for him.

"But..." Golf seemed unsure, disbelieving, "Tomo likes Mike. Right?"
"No." Mike cut in, speaking in Thai, "Well. He does. He likes us both... and it was you he wanted you first."
Of course. That was the way it always went; Mike didn't want to feel bitter about it, but it was always Golf who was more sociable, more popular, who everyone liked better. Even though he didn't believe that love was a game, he couldn't help but feel as though he'd come second place in something.

Golf swallowed and began to massage his head, as though that would help him come to terms with this. The idea of Yamapi wanting him... he wasn't even near his level of fame. A few months ago it would have seemed like a joke, but Golf didn't really feel like laughing right now.
"Me first, huh?" He managed a wry smile. It somehow felt like a big achievement. "Mike, I really don't know if..."
"I know." Mike cut him off, then instantly regretted how harsh his voice sounded. Golf didn't even notice. "I know." He said, a little more softly, "But... think about this. Try to... you know, accept his feelings. Tolerate them, if that's too hard. Then maybe... I don't know... maybe everything will work itself out if you can."

Golf's wry smile turned into a sort of grimace. His palms were sweaty, and he felt uncomfortable. It was obvious what Mike wanted. What Mike was hoping for. But he didn't know if he could give him that; he didn't know if he wanted to do that.
What Mike wanted involved sharing, and that was something that Golf wasn't very good at doing.
"Okay. Yeah." He attempted to revive his smile. Managed a little, "Okay. Look, I think I'm going to go to bed. I'm really tired and..." And I don't know if I can handle this right now. "... I guess I need to sleep on it. This."

"Yeah." Mike smiled back, and the slight grimness in it matched his brother's. He didn't know why he felt so crestfallen. What had he been expecting anyway? "I know. Goodnight then. See you in the morning."
Golf nodded, and then to Yamapi in Japanese, "I'm going to bed."
Yamapi's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he caught himself and replied appropriately. He looked kind of forlorn; was obviously trying to hide it. Both Golf and Mike noticed anyway. Golf was nearly at the door, when he stopped mid step, and turned back around.

"Hey, Tomo?" His voice sounded like it had regained a little of its normal energy, but that could have been wishful thinking, "Goodnight."
Then, without waiting for a response, he was gone. It took Mike a couple of moments to realize that he was now alone with Yamapi, who was possibly not very happy with him for what he'd just done. He swallowed - hoped it hadn't been audible - and waited for Yamapi to say something to him. Nothing came, and suddenly Mike was scared. Even being yelled at, being chastised, anything was better than this silence. Yamapi being angry at him was one thing. Yamapi not being able to forgive him was another. Mike wondered if he'd crossed a line.

"Tomo," He started, not able to turn around and look him in the face, "I really... I'm really sorry."
He had more to say, but suddenly Yamapi's face was pressed against the back of his head, arms were wrapped tightly around Mike's shoulders in a desperate, crushing hug. He still didn't say anything, didn't make a sound - Mike couldn't even hear him breathing - but it didn't matter. It didn't matter, because Mike could feel in the way that Yamapi held him... no, the way that Yamapi clung to him, everything that he felt. He could feel that he was scared, confused, at a complete loss.
He could feel that Yamapi urgently needed comfort that Mike wasn't sure he could give him. He was scared, was more than scared, was terrified. Because here was Yamashita Tomohisa, the man who could make millions of girls all over the world swoon, merely by winking, who was strong, was a leader, who never broke down, clinging to 16-year-old Mike, asking to be reassured.

It was like asking for water from a man dying of thirst.
"It's too much." Yamapi whispered in Japanese, not caring that Mike couldn't understand. "Too much."
Mike, although the words meant nothing to him, felt a sense of relief, because at least Yamapi wasn't crying. If he wasn't crying, then things could still be alright again.
"It's okay." Mike whispered back, not sure if he was telling the truth, "It's okay."
And Yamapi, not caring if he was being lied to or not, relaxed his hold a little. He just needed to be told it was alright. That was all he'd wanted.

---