you can never give too much
For those who still don’t know, this journal is shared by two people, Momo and myself. Some people have had trouble telling us apart in the past (sorry >_<), so from now on I’m going to reply to comments using my personal lj, to make things a little less confusing. I guess we should have done this from the start, huh =_=

Title: 5 times Ueda finds himself in bed with a member of KAT-TUN
Author: nami (kanzenrei)
Pairing: KAT-TUN/Ueda
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,432
Summary: What the title says.
Notes: A small contribution to shangrilove’s endeavors to spread the Ueda love ♥


one

The first thing that registers in his mind is that something extremely heavy is boring a hole into his bare stomach.

The second thing that registers in his mind is the smell of male sweat, musky but not unpleasant, nor only his own.

The third thing that registers in his mind is that the unidentified thing that first woke him up is not an anatomical part of another human being, which is what one is wont to conclude upon waking up to such sensations.

Ueda groans and pushes off the boxing glove atop his abdomen, intentionally directing its landing point to a lump on his right.

“Ow,” the lump mumbles.

Ueda watches as pale, bruised hands scrabble at the bunched-up blankets beside him, and he shoots a halfhearted glare in this general direction as soon as Kame’s messy bed head appears where the lump once was.

“That was my head,” Kame says crossly.

“Now you know what a catcher feels like,” Ueda shoots back, wincing as he touches the tender spot on his stomach.

Groggy eyes blink up at him. “Catcher?”

Ueda sighs and rolls over on his other side, muttering “amateur” under his breath.

Not as quietly as he intended. “And you’re an expert, aren’t you,” Kame sardonically replies, jabbing lightly at Ueda’s lower back.

Ueda pushes himself up into a sitting position and looks down at Kame with mock disdain. “Kidney punches are illegal in the ring, Kamenashi.”

“Show-off.”

There is a slight smirk on Ueda’s face, which immediately disappears as soon as Kame’s idle fingers trace over the waistline of his boxers. He swats at Kame’s hand, but Kame withdraws it in time.

“I’m not a complete idiot at boxing, you know.” Kame sits up in one fluid motion, flushes against Ueda in another. “Clinch,” he whispers into Ueda’s ear, “a last resort defensive technique in which a boxer holds on to his opponent–” he wraps one arm around Ueda’s waist, the other around Ueda’s shoulders, “–to avoid getting hit or to block further attacks.”

Ueda struggles for a moment, cheeks slightly pink, and only when he suggests showing Kame what a proper head butt looks like does Kame hastily retract his tight grip.

“Impressive. Seven o’clock in the morning and you’re already acting like a smartass,” Ueda comments, trying to back away as inconspicuously as possible.

Kame’s eyes rake over Ueda’s upper body, and Ueda resists the urge to hit him. “Should we practice that next?” Kame asks innocently, or as innocently as he could while licking his lips in a suggestive manner.

Ueda abandons all pretense and scrambles off the bed, successfully throwing a pillow and hitting Kame square in the face. “You stink. Go take a shower.”

“And change your sheets?” Kame adds with a smirk.

Ueda doesn’t even bat an eyelash as he wrinkles his nose. “They’re reeking because you slept in them right after training, so yes.”

Kame snickers and rolls out of bed. Whether or not he purposely left his boxer shorts hanging almost off his hips for Ueda’s benefit, Ueda really doesn’t want to know. Ueda, for his part, studiously keeps his eyes glued to a guitar pick lying off to one corner until Kame has left the room.

All-nighters aren’t made to encompass private boxing lessons. Ueda makes a mental note to remember that from now on.


two

It isn’t his bed. Ueda knows it even without opening his eyes; the mattress is too firm, the pillow too lumpy, the blankets much too thin and scratchy to be his own. Light skitters in the form of a yellowish haze behind his shut eyelids, an occurrence that would not be taking place had he been in his bedroom with its floor-length curtains. He doesn’t remember where he was last night, what he was doing—who he could have been doing; he hopes the answer is no one because he still has all his clothes on—and doesn’t particularly want to wake up to confirm the identity of the person whose thin arms are encircling his waist, whose quiet, even breaths tickle at his forehead.

He tries to recall the events of the previous night, but beyond flashes of scenes with Jin, Koki and a couple of strangers at a bar Jin often goes to, his mind draws a blank.

Maybe if he opens his eyes, he’ll remember—

“What the fuck.”

The arms withdraw themselves from around Ueda’s waist, and Ueda’s eyes fly open, wide as saucers, as he recognizes the voice.

“What the fuck,” Koki repeats, attempting to scoot away from Ueda as far as the cramped space of the single bed would allow. Koki meets Ueda’s incredulous gaze, and his lips form an unpleasant grimace before he turns around and leans over the side of the bed, retching.

Ueda feels extremely offended. Surely waking up to his face isn’t that barf-inducing – scratch that, waking up to his face is not supposed to be barf-inducing at all. Koki is taking this joke a bit too far.

“God. Hurts like a motherfucker,” Koki mutters, holding his head in his hands and grumbling a string of colorful words.

Ah. A hangover. That would explain the retching, but it still doesn’t account for why Ueda is here, completely headache-free but suffering from a bout of temporary amnesia.

“Koki,” Ueda begins warily, for clearly Koki is not a morning person – or perhaps that was just the alcohol talking; in any case he doesn’t want to risk having his head bitten off, short-term memory loss or not.

“The fuck are you doing here?” is Koki’s courteous reply.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Ueda shoots back.

Koki winces. “Not so loud,” he complains, clutching at his head. “What do you mean, you don’t—” he glances back at Ueda, and this time his eyes come into focus. “Ueda?”

“No, Nakamaru,” Ueda answers sarcastically.

“Oh. Oh. It’s coming back to me… Ow.” Koki winces again as he struggles to sit up. Just as Ueda braces himself for another round of profanities, Koki grins.

“What?” Ueda’s eyes narrow dangerously, and Koki’s smile fades the slightest bit.

“Well, it’s just that it was really funny, I mean, it isn’t but it seemed hilarious at the time, and—”

“What happened last night, Koki?”

Koki looks torn between cowering in fear and bursting out laughing. “I don’t remember everything ‘cause I was—a little tipsy, y’know—”

“I can see that,” Ueda growls.

Koki flinches. “Er. I had this friend—we were drinking with Akanishi and a couple of other guys, remember? And he—uh, putdrugsinyourdrinkandyoupassedout. Akanishi freaked and punched his lights out when he put two and two together. He’s surprisingly smarter when he’s drunk, have you noticed? So I took you back here and—”

“Drugs?” Ueda’s voice is frigid.

Koki bit his lip. “He…ah…thought you were a girl.”

“….”

“They weren’t that dangerous! He swore they only knocked a person out for a few hours, maybe cause them to temporarily lose some sensory functions…”

The murderous aura surrounding Ueda effectively dissipates Koki’s hangover.

“Did I say I know him? Because I don’t. You should really watch out for psychos like that these days, huh? Hey, where are you goi—”

Ueda slides off the bed and stalks towards the door, slamming it behind him.

Koki sighs. He has a feeling Ueda wouldn’t be joining his bar-hopping sessions for a while.


three

When Ueda stirs awake with the most spectacular hangover he has had in a long while, he is no longer surprised. When a slight shift in position causes him to feel an almost unbearable pain in his lower backside, he collapses onto his back and lets out a curse.

Jin yawns. “’Morning, Tat-chan,” he says sleepily, throwing an arm around Ueda with a lazy smile.

Ueda shuts his eyes tight; it is just a weird dream, and if he opens his eyes he will be truly awake and wearing clothes and not hurting all over and in his own room, blessedly alone.

Something sharp pokes him repeatedly in the waist and Ueda stifles a groan, arching away from Jin’s pestering finger. “Did you sleep well?” Jin asks brightly.

“What do you think?” Ueda retorts, grabbing Jin’s wrist, fingers digging into skin.

Jin’s laughter rings in the room, reverberates in Ueda’s head in amplified waves. A pained sound escapes his lips, and Jin stops. “Sorry,” Jin whispers.

“Which part?” Ueda dully asks, and he lets Jin’s wrist go, tearing his eyes away from Jin’s unexpectedly serious gaze. It’s not anger that he’s feeling, not really. He feels awkward and strangely surreal. Like he is as at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Jin brushes away a stray lock of hair from Ueda’s eyes, and Ueda draws back, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not a girl,” he says.

Jin smiles. “No,” he replies wryly, “you’re not.”

Ueda sighs. “This never happened, okay?”

“Why not?” Jin pouts, and Ueda thwacks him over the head. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

“Good.”

“…can I at least tell Pi?”

Whack.

“I was just kidding! Geez.”

“That’s the last time I’m ever going drinking with you, I swear.”

“Uh-huh,” Jin mumbles, but Ueda can hear the smirk in his voice. Ueda can feel Jin’s hand creeping along his thigh, too, but he finds himself keeping still.

Because it’s the first and last time, Ueda will let it go. Jin is just special that way. Too bad the bastard knows it all too well.


four

“Good morning!!!” a cheery voice exclaims loudly in Ueda’s ear. Ueda groans and reflexively sticks his arm out, clenched fist colliding with something hard.

“Ouch!” the voice yelps, but Ueda is unfazed, having a bit of experience on waking up beside injury magnets masquerading as people.

Ueda blearily opens an eye, and Junno’s pained but still beaming face swims into his line of vision. “…what are you doing here?” he asks, sitting up and glancing around his bedroom.

Junno’s face is too goddamned bright first thing in the morning, Ueda thinks, almost as bad as a shot of sunlight in the eyelids. “I stayed overnight, remember?” The younger man beams, and it is with a twinge of annoyance that Ueda notices him waving a club sandwich in the air, haphazardly showering Ueda with breadcrumbs.

“You’re not allowed to eat in this room,” Ueda says critically, brushing a couple of crumbs from his hair. “And where did you get that?”

“Oh, the butler brought them up for us!” Junno points at two loaded breakfast trays on Ueda’s bedside table.

“Us,” Ueda repeats, eyes narrowing into slits as he sits up and takes in Junno’s wrinkled pajama top and the pillow crease on his left cheek.

“Yeah! He was really nice… Although there was a funny look on his face, and he was talking to me in this hushed tone, telling me not to worry about the other household staff bothering us,” Junno babbled on as he munched on his sandwich, oblivious to the look of horror on Ueda’s face.

“You—slept—here?”

Junno nods.

Ueda groans, already imagining the gossip spreading amongst his entire household staff about his questionable gender preferences.

“You look really cute when you sleep, Ueda!” Junno remarks brightly, and Ueda gives him a hard push out of spite. Junno topples back and flings a hand out, knocking over a glass of orange juice and spilling the sticky liquid all over the food and table.

Ueda stares at the mess, feeling something snap inside him as the juice travels down the length of the mahogany night table and spills over the edge, staining the pristine white carpet orange.

“Ehehe…oops.”

“Taguchi…” Ueda growls dangerously.

Junno quails under Ueda’s harsh stare, grabbing a pillow in a feeble attempt to shield himself. “I’m sorry! I’ll clean it up!” He scoots further back as Ueda advances toward him. “Ueda… I’m really sorry, okay! Please…please don’t be so upset over one night stand!”

Ueda stops short, staring at Junno’s sheepish grin in disbelief. “You…you’re—ugh. I’m going back to sleep.” He grabs a fistful of the comforter and throws it over his head, curling up into a ball and trying not to think about lame, inappropriate puns and the idiots who delivered them.


five

Ueda lets out an exasperated sigh as Maru twists and turns for the fifth time in half a minute. “Could you please keep still? Some people are trying to sleep,” he says irritably.

Maru rolls over and blinks innocently at him. “Sorry, Ueda.”

“Why couldn’t we just book two rooms like we usually do?” Ueda gripes, quick to put some space between himself and his friend. It’s a king-sized bed, for heaven’s sake—there’s plenty of space for the two of them and—what is Maru’s problem?

“It’s less expensive this way!” Maru protests as he snuggles closer to Ueda as surreptitiously as he can manage, which isn’t saying much.

Ueda lets out a derisive snort and extricates Maru’s arm from around his neck.

“Oh, fine. You want to know why? You’ve slept with everyone else in our group except me and you always stress on TV that we stay in separate rooms and—I don’t know about you but I think you’re being just the tiniest bit unfair, here—”

“I have not slept with everyone in our group,” Ueda protests hotly, glowering at him.

Maru grants him a look of pure skepticism. “Yeah? You can tell me the truth, Ueda, I thought we were friends—”

“And even if I did,” Ueda continues as if Maru hadn’t opened his mouth, “which I didn’t,” he hastily adds when Maru frowns. “Why is it such a big deal to you?”

Maru mysteriously loses his voice and flushes pink, opening and closing his mouth like a gaping goldfish.

Ueda rolls his eyes and turns his back on Maru.

“I’m just…thinking of your reputation! You can’t go around sleeping with just…just anyone, you know!”

Ueda doesn’t turn around, doesn’t say anything for a long while and Maru thinks he must have already fallen asleep when he suddenly speaks up, “I don’t.”

“But Kame told me—and Taguchi—!”

“You’d seriously take Taguchi’s word over mine?” Ueda sniffs.

“Well—no, but—“

“Stop being stupid; it doesn’t suit you. I told myself I won’t get tricked into sleeping with anyone else anymore, all right?”

Maru’s eyebrows scrunch together in concentration. “Anyone else…wait, what?”

“Go to sleep, Nakamaru.” Ueda rolls over and gently pats him on the cheek, eyes fluttering closed.

Maru smiles softly. “Okay,” he concedes, finally appeased.

Ueda’s hand stays where it is.