Title: Shoulders (one-shot)

Pairing: Two members of Kanjani 8

Genre: Romance

Summary: Thoughts of two Kanjani 8 members.



I have a friend who is very special to me. Actually I have many friends. But this friend is my best friend. He is the only one that doesn't treat me different then everyone else. If I have to go somewhere because I have work, he is the only one who always smiles and tells me welcome back. He is the only one that understands commuting means that I'm sometimes more tired then I should be.

If we have to go somewhere on a bus, I always try and catch a nap. He is the only one that doesn't get upset that I do nap. So I like to sit beside him on the bus.

I love his shoulders. I love how broad they are. When I am tired I like to lean against them. He always puts his arm around me. His voice so gentle, "Sleep now."

So I sleep. They are my pillows, so strong. They are broad enough to support me.

Sometimes I wish that I was just a member of the group. I get tired of being the star, the one that has to run between Osaka and Tokyo. I would like to stay in one place for a while. Being with one group would be even better.

I dream about him. I dream that he is the star, the one that everyone wants. I am just another member of the group. He would be the one on all the TV shows, on all the magazine covers. I would collect them and put them in scrapbooks. We would laugh when he found out about my strange collection.

When I wake, I donítí tell him about my dream. I donítí tell him that heís my star. I donít tell him how much I love him. How I never want to share him with anyone.

I remind myself that we are just friends. He doesnít want me. Not that way.

He is a man, and I like my guys to be men. With my friend's muscles, his broad shoulders there are no hiding that he is a man. Even when we dressed up for the obachan skits he was still very manly. So the agency forbids him to weight lift. So I have him teach me to weight lift. I pretend that I don't see when he uses a few of my weights.

The problem is that the agency wants their men to be boys. To not have the muscles. To not be as large as he is. So they make him diet. Perhaps being thinner would keep him from being large. That is when I really worry, when the powers that be have decided that he's gained a kilo or two too much. They put him on a liquid diet.

I always go around the diet. I will order room service and insist that he eats part of it. I promise him that I won't tell anyone how he broke the rules.

The staff always fusses over his shoulders. They tell him they are too broad, too strong. Johnny's shouldn't have shoulders like his. He's lucky that he plays bass, or he wouldn't be a Johnny.

I see the pain in his eyes. No one notices but me. Their words hurt him. I wish they wouldn't pick on his looks.

I watch him slouch yet again. They tell him that looks much better.

I want to punch the staff members, I want to demand that they stop lying to him. Why canít they tell the truth? Heís the best looking member of the group. His broad shoulders support the group. Johnny's would be better if we did have a few more manly men in the agency.

Later that day, he comes to me. He gives me the look that he gives only me. He asks me what I want for Valentines Day. Do I want chocolate?

I'm surprised he asks me. We're not lovers. But heís so earnest, that I have to tell him my fondest wish. The wish I haven't even breathed to anyone else.

I tell him the truth. I want photos. I want an album of photos of him that doesn't hide his shoulders. They are sexy, and I want them.

"I thought you of all people wouldn't make fun of me." His eyes change, he now looks like the man who has been picked upon for too many times about his looks.

I try to tell him that I love his shoulders. But I'm called away by staff.

The next time we get on the bus, he is sitting with someone else. Yoko seems to be almost protecting him. My friend won't meet my eyes. He refuses to talk to me when I ask him to sit by me.

Yoko looks up to me and tells me to sit somewhere else.

I want to shout to my friend. I want to tell everyone how sexy he is. But I don't. He looks on the verge of tears. I don't want to be the one that hurts him.

I sit by Hina. Who asks me what's wrong.

I tell him what went on between us. I pour my heart out. I probably shouldnít have shown such weakness. But I canítí just put him out of my mind.

Hina tells me not to worry; he'll take care of it.

I hope so; I canít live without my friend.


I have a friend who is very special to me. He is very popular. He is the one that works the hardest. The agency has decided that for the good of everyone it would be best if he commutes between two worlds. One world in Tokyo, the other in Osaka.

He's off in Tokyo. He didn't tell me good by this time. I feel kind of sad about it. But then I didn't really mean anything to him. I thought I did, and it hurts to be wrong.

I have a part of my body that almost got me kicked out of the Johnny's. I inherited it from my body builder father. I had to learn to slump, so that it won't be so prominent.

The only person it didn't seem to matter to was him. But with his request, I realized he was like everyone else. He thought my shoulders are wrong.

Then Hina comes to me. He tells me about my friend's fetish. While some men like breasts, my friend likes shoulders. His wish for a valentines present was an honest one. My friend is in love with my shoulders.

I decide that I have to give my friend his wish. Itís such a simple one, just a few photos. But I want the photos to be good. These photos wonít be taken by one of my friends.

Hina knows a photographer. He owes Hina a favor.

On my next afternoon off, I go to the photographerís studio. She takes photos of me. Barely clothed photos. I am not used to this. I'm not like my friend. Everyone wanted him after that magazine shot. No one has ever asked for sexy photos of a too big, clumsy bass player until now.

I got the photos the morning of Valentines Day. I run out and buy an album. Then I put them in the album.

Then I go to my friendís apartment. He is sleeping; it is his first day off in almost a month. I know I should let him rest. But it is Valentines Day, and I got him his present.

I ring the bell over and over. Finally he opens the door. ďWho the hell is it?Ē

ďItís me,Ē I tell him.

ďGomen, I didnít mean to yell at you.Ē He suddenly look very sorry.

"I brought you your gift." I try and smile at him. ďItís for Valentines Day.Ē

He ushers me into his apartment. We sit together on the couch and I hand him the album.

I am nervous as he looks at my photos. He doesn't say anything, and that makes me worry. Something changes in him as he looks at the photos. He makes little sighs after he looks at each one.

Finally, he closes the album.

"These are hot." He tells me. "Really hot."

"You don't have to say that." I say modestly.

"It's true, you are hot." then he kisses me, hungry kisses. The kind of kisses that one usually gets after watching an AV. Iím surprised, we havenít watched an AV. But I love the hunger in his kisses.

I kiss him back trying to match his hunger with mine. It feels so good for him to touch me. My friend wants me. At least for one time, I will be his. I try and memorize ever touch, every time he scraped my shoulderís with his nails, every love bite.

I tell myself I will be happy with only one time. But I lie to myself. I know I will be broken hearted when our one night stand ends.


The only thing was, the time we had together on Valentines Day wasnít just one time. It was the start of many times together. So many times in fact that he begins to live with me. I never ask him, he just suddenly is there and I donít feel like telling him to leave.

On our one year anniversary, my lover gives me an album. Many of the photos in the album most of Japan has seen before in a magazine. But there are more, photos that he's taken just for me. I look at them, then itís my turn to kiss him with pent up hunger.

Everyone in Japan might want my lover. But now I don't care if no one besides my lover thinks I'm sexy. Because he loves me, and my shoulders. When Iím with him, I feel as if I'm the sexist man in Japan.