characters: Maeda, Goto Hikaru, Goto Shinichirou (it's taken us four years, but we've finally named Goto's brother, god), 5*STAR, and a handful of OCs on the side
disclaimer: These characters and this universe belong to mousapelli.
word count: 2,656.
warning: Here be het. Thanks, Maeda-kun.
Five Times Maeda Finds Out That Goto Is in a Boy Band
The carton of eggs meets the sidewalk and Maeda's phone is in his hand and against his ear before he really registers it.
Goto-kun's voice mail picks up and Maeda's brain is still processing when he opens his mouth, not really sure what's going to come out of it until it does.
“Hey, Goto-kun. I haven't heard from you in a couple of months, so I thought I'd give you a call and see if you want to meet up for breakfast and talk about why you're on the billboard across from my grocery store with your hands in the back pocket of some guy, who I think stars in some porn that I own. And to answer the question you have posed to me on said sign: Yes, I would like to wear you on my ass, too.”
An old lady walking past stops long enough to say, “Oh, me too, honey. He was delicious on the last Ibawe,” before hobbling on her way.
Maeda still hasn't regained enough feeling in his brain to do anything but hang up.
When Maeda gets the call, it's gone about noon. So, of course, he's still asleep.
“This had better be a vivacious foreigner with a fantastic ass and no less than a C-cup,” Maeda tells the phone once he'd managed to fish it out of the pocket of last night's leather pants.
“Hello, Maeda-kun,” the voice on the other end says, laced with an oblique disapproval that made Maeda's spine straighten involuntarily, an automatic response he hadn't managed to rid himself of, even a decade later.
At least Maeda had gotten one out of three in his request though.
“Goto-niisan,” Maeda purrs. His voice is still rough from work and it scraped against the back of his throat enticingly, if he does say so himself. And he doesn't think he'll have to. “It's been a while.”
“I would ask how you've been, Maeda-kun, but as it seems that very little has changed for you, I will get to the point of my call,” Shinichirou informs him, like his time is already worth a million yen and he isn't living off of instant ramen when the rent is due, while Maeda could eat fatty tuna every night if he pleased. Leave it to Niisan to make a good run seem like something to be ashamed of.
“Yeah, yeah, what is it?” Conversations with Shinichirou never end well these days, and the longer they go on, the exponentially worse the side effects become. If it weren't for Goto-kun, he wouldn't bother, but if he didn't care enough for Goto-kun to try for him, his brother wouldn't piss him off as much either.
It was a double edged... something.
In any case, Maeda didn't get home until 5am this morning and doesn't have a ton of patience for Shinichirou on a full afternoon's sleep.
“I'm calling to inquire after just what sort of depravity you've gotten my little brother into now.”
Apparently, it's going to be one of these chats.
“Awesome, yeah,” Maeda agrees at length. “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I'm a pusher for them all. Now, unless you have something new to add, I'd like to get back to sleep so I can perform at my job properly tonight.”
Shinichirou scoffs, like Maeda didn't already know how he felt about Maeda's “job.” The thing is, Maeda had been called a whore by way too many jealous boyfriends, husbands, and a few former friends to be particularly fazed by Shinichirou implying it. It'd stung that first time, even with Goto-kun's pressed against his side in his defense and there after, smoothing a hand down the line of Maeda's bent back.
The days when Shinichirou's opinion of him mattered had faded long ago.
“I'm referring to why Hikaru's midriff is on display to the whole of the internet and why my girlfriend has footage of him rubbing himself against a strange man on live television.”
“Um,” Maeda fumbles because, really, it's not like he hasn't a ton of incriminating videos of Goto-kun up his sleeve, but the 'live television' bit is a little odd. “Was his gig covered by the local news or something? I thought his band had broken up.”
Maeda had gotten a series of progressively more drunken texts from Goto-kun over the coarse of one night a while back, and Maeda had left work early because he was a little concerned, especially since he kept pitching this band to Goto-kun as his chance and proof he could do this, but Goto-kun had left the bar before he'd gotten there. From what the bartender had said, he'd even gone off for a threesome with two guys who were hot enough to be idols, and Maeda hadn't heard from him since.
It isn't like he was jealous. The man did need a good lay. But that also didn't mean Maeda was going to be the first one to call either.
“I'll forward you the link,” Shinichirou answers him tersely, and hangs up after a short dismissal now that he knows Maeda isn't any use to him.
Maeda sticks his tongue out at phone because he feels like it and because he can and then feels utterly ridiculous.
“Who was that, baby?” the sweet young thing he'd picked up last night after his shift asks. “Your mom?”
“Something like that,” Maeda tells her before planting his face in her luscious breasts and going back to sleep.
He manages a couple more hours before he gets up, sees the sweet young thing to the door, and checks his mail.
“Damn, Goto-kun,” he says finally, once he's picked up his jaw and rid himself of the drool.
Apparently, when the man found he was ready to sell himself, he went full stop.
Maeda is at this party, pleasantly warm from cheap liquor and the twenty year old on his lap, when he's reintroduced to Motaharu-chan, whose lost twenty pounds since high school and none of it from her chest. Her lips are still the full pouty sort that Maeda had taken full appreciation of that one time she'd sucked him on in the bathroom and soon they've repositioned things so that she's the one on his lap and her top is on the floor somewhere.
She's made other exquisite advancements over the years as well, so many that Maeda invites her back to his place to catch up and they stay up late into the night, half drunk and messy with it, kissing wet and long as Maeda fucks into her and she pulls him in by the hips with her thighs.
“You were friends with Goto Hikaru and that group, right?” she asks afterwards, hanging out the window to smoke a cigarette. It's a smell and a taste that Maeda doesn't favor on the whole and he'd probably object if she wasn't doing it topless. “That punk rock kid. Kind of mothering to everyone.”
“Yeah, good friends,” Maeda tells her, holding up a pinky and a devious grin because girls tended to like that he was flexible in all the best ways.
“Nice,” she drawls, finishing up with a final drag, a snub, and a flick. Maeda doesn't bother making room on the bed for her because he's about ready for another round anyway. “It's so weird that he's an idol now. I remember when his voice cracked, you know? Sort of ruins the mystique.”
Maeda remembered too. Goto-kun had been the last in their year and it'd been a slow, grueling process with more scuppered band practices than Maeda cared to remember with Goto's mouth in a near permanent frown from the frustration of it.
Maeda also remembers when Goto-kun's voice finally settled itself into a smooth pitch, and that the melody he'd sung with it, that first time, made Maeda painfully hard, shockingly fast even for middle school standards.
It takes a minute for his brain to come around to what she'd just said because Motaharu-chan had started doing something truly spectacular with her hips.
“Come again?” Maeda demanded, for once, not talking about his dick.
The break room at Maeda's club looks like the setting of an Adachi Iku orgy.
There's a couch that stretches all along the back wall and wraps around a bit to the other side that's make for sprawling instead of sitting and the floor is made of more shag than carpet, frankly. And the pillows littered around the place aren't technically body pillows, but they may as well be.
Honestly, it's just a place for the employees to crash out so that they're fresh and ready for their shift, even if he's seen one or two hosts use the space to take off the edge after seeing to a particularly handsy married client. But it's suspicious looking enough that it earns him a glare that one night he'd gotten Goto-kun to work there.
Maeda is there early, because he'd had some errands to run in the area, so he picks up dinner out and eats it on the big couch with his feet up on the coffee table. Yuugi's there too because he's pathetically young and goes to a cram school down the street, and they watch a program Yuugi's picked out on the flat screen tv while he steals pieces of Maeda's sushi and Maeda retaliates by eating half the shrimp from Yuugi's udon.
Despite the unfortunate consequence of making Maeda feel old on occasion, Maeda actually likes the kid, so he doesn't mind indulging his obsession with pop stars and their cheesy variety shows for the night. Especially when he's so goddamn cute about it.
“Oh! Oooh!” Yuugi says, pulling on Maeda's shirt sleeve. “This is my favorite group. All that tension between the members is really hot. It's like they're going to rip each other's clothes off every time they preform together.”
And totally gay.
Maeda smiles around a piece of spicy tuna and lets himself be pulled.
“And that's the new group,” Yuugi informs him, dismissively. “They're okay, I guess.”
“Yeah, well,” Yuugi shrugs. “They're all sex appeal and no back story. It's the 'we just met last week and have no idea what we're doing' sort of feeling, you know?”
Maeda doesn't but he nods anyway.
“I haven't heard any of their original stuff yet and I'm starting to think this new single is a bunch of smoke Ko-chan is blowing up our asses so we won't wonder where the hell Tsunami's gotten off to.” He thinks on it and then adds, thoughtfully, “Or Jun's pregnant with another love child.”
“And that's their leader in the middle there,” Yuugi points out for him and Maeda is mostly concentrating on plucking the last piece of sushi up by his chopsticks, so he doesn't really look at first. “He's new to ME, but he's clearly had some training at pole dancing.”
“Obviously,” Maeda agrees, chewing and tossing his and Yuugi's trash in the nearest bin.
“And they're attractive enough physically, okay, I'm not saying that, it's just that their band image at this point mostly involves hip thrusting and covering other groups' music. It's not exactly a subtle art.” Yuugi is getting a bit worked up over it and Maeda would find it adorable if he hadn't just caught sight of the television out of the corner of his eye, and a flail of hips that looked obscenely familiar.
“Wait a minute...” Maeda edges closer to the screen and squints a bit, thinking something in his sushi must have been off, must be causing hallucinations of the sequin variety.
“I should have known he was your type, senpai,” Yuugi laughs, and the blonde on screen next to the leader rubs against his side, comfortable and familiar, and pushes him into a hip roll that leaves all of Japan with a full view of his crotch. “His name is Goto.”
“Yeah,” Maeda says, blankly. “I know.”
When the PORN*STAR debacle hits the tabloids, Maeda hears about it from his neighbor, the lady at the meat counter at the grocery store, a teenaged girl on the subway, and from a dozen acquaintances over text message.
So, when he gets into work, he's not too surprised when it's the talk of the office ladies who come in.
What is a surprise is when one of them pulls out the paper and he gets his first glimpse of the band seeped in scandal.
Goto-kun's got his hands all over the alleged porn star (and fuck, Maeda totally recognizes him from some of the AVs he owns) and he's got his show smile on, only bigger and peering out from under a giant headdress.
He hasn't returned Maeda's calls in months, and Maeda had thought he was just licking his wounds after the whole thing with Ken had blown up. Maeda had been meaning to drop by his apartment. He'd been saying he'd track Goto-kun down for weeks now.
It looks like it didn't really matter now.
He gives Goto-kun another couple of rings and leaves a vague message about going out to drinks, but doubts he'll get much more of a response, especially if Goto-kun has gone all celebrity on him.
Instead, he goes on the fan forums to get more news because the mainstream press just keeps playing clips of 5*STAR's performances followed up by a tamer porn scene when they cover it at all, and Maeda is actually getting sick of seeing Goto-kun molesting his guy on national television.
He's looking around to see if anyone knows if the group is splitting up or if Goto-kun is having an aneurism, or what.
Fangirls have superpowers and know everything. Maeda knows this well.
The speculation is wide and sweeping all possibilities and Maeda has refreshed enough times that he starts to poke around the rest of the site to distract himself. One evening and he feels like a veteran of the fandom, addicted to F5 and able to pick out a junior from a fifty pixels.
Reading the fanfiction is only the natural next step, and since he's pulled an all-nighter on pure adrenaline and all of the BNFs have left for school, he hasn't much choice for new content.
The whole thing blows over pretty fast, which doesn't explain why Maeda sets the message boards as his home page and a leaked midi version of STARSHINE as his ringtone.
But on Maeda's day off, he's laying out on his bed, in sleep pants and eating yogurt from a tube, opening up a new Word document.
It's not really fanfiction. More of a memory.
It's about Goto-kun's first guitar, purchased from hours of part time work after class and selling jingles lyrics to junk food companies online. It's about Goto-kun's fingers across thin strings, Goto-kun's eyes dark with contemplation, Goto-kun's lips as they curl into a smile when he hands the money over to the salesman.
Maeda posts it. Just for a laugh. But he's F5ing twice as often because the replies are something like Goto-kun used to try to describe an audience's roar.
SCREAMING, SCREAMING, GOTO'S FINGERS ARE PRACTICING FOR ADACHI'S ASS
Oh, this is lovely. More?
Nice idea! But the characterization is a little.... Maybe Goto should turn tricks for the extra cash. And then, like, Rin can comfort him when he feels like a dirty whore. With his giant penis. Just sayin'.
Goto Hikaru. HOW ARE YOU EVEN REAL??
It takes a couple of hours, but his phone rings.