Shall We Dance?

Ever since Takanori’s tenth birthday, rain had always meant bad things. Rain then had been a foreboding sign that his favorite guitar was about to warp and be ruined. Two years later, rain had brought about the loss of the family dog. Two years after that, rain had brought about his decision to drop out of school. And then after another two years, his parents had booted him out of the house, sending him on in way in the pouring rain.

So he’d always huffed in disbelief at the people that told him rain was beautiful or that it was peaceful or that rain was the perfect thing to go outside and dance around in. To him, the people that enjoyed kissing and dancing and laughing in the rain were completely off it, because to him, rain meant unhappiness.

He’d spent his years convinced that the rain meant that the sky was crying, and never once had his ‘when it rains, something bad will happen’ theory been proven wrong. The sky crying usually ended in him crying, and the only time that didn’t happen was when he was inside, on the stage- somewhere that he couldn’t see it.

Rain had once meant the end of a relationship that he’d thought had potential, and it had also once meant his father telling him that a musician’s path was a useless path to follow, and that had meant the most tears of all. Rain, for years, had meant hurt.

So now that Akira had asked him to go outside in it, it could be understood that he wasn’t thoroughly excited in becoming part of such a terrible set of memories. His instinctual fear that something new would happen was completely reasonable. But he’d always felt safe with the blond. Akira Suzuki had never done wrong by him.

He’d always trusted him.

“Take my hand.”

He found that his heartbeat picked up when he looked up into the blond’s eyes, when he saw that warm, casual smile spreading across his mouth, that familiar twinkle taking over his countenance. And then a quiet laugh left the blond’s smiling mouth, and Takanori took the final step out into the dripping rain, his hand in Akira’s, his eyes watching the blond’s cool brown stare. “Won’t we catch cold out here?”

Akira smiled, pulling him close, one arm sliding around him, bringing their hands up to his mouth, kissing Takanori’s knuckles. “Always worrying,” he said softly, and he smiled, nudging the shorter man’s chin upward and gifting him with a kiss, releasing a short chuckle and then kissing him again. “I’d have to be absolutely batty to let you end up sick.”

He took one small step to the side, then back, then forward, and then to the side again, leading Takanori in a box step, chuckling at the confused expression in the honey brown eyes that stared up at him, and he kissed the dark-haired man’s knuckles once more, humming in content, not particularly bothered by the drops of water falling in impressive amounts all around them. “We’ll end up soaking wet, though.”

The blond chuckled, and he gently kissed Takanori’s cheeks, then the bridge of his nose, then his forehead, and then ventured down for a longer-lasting kiss to his lips. “Good,” he murmured, and he allowed Takanori a moment to smile before leaning in for another one. “It’s about time something good happened in the rain, hmm?”

“I suppose, hai.” He allowed their lips to meet again, and he smiled up at the blond that was proving to be an expert at dancing with rain falling and the wind blowing around them. He pressed closer when a shiver passed through him, and he let his head rest on Akira’s shoulder, and he made his eyes close, and he smiled when he felt the blond’s lips kissing his wet hair. And he found that he was so very much warmer pressed up against his love just like this.

And then he heard humming, and he spent a few moments trying to figure out the song. It wasn’t something he’d just written, and it wasn’t something from the band’s beginning. It had to be from some time in between, from some time in his life when he’d had more than a speck of happiness, from the time when he was sure that a thing he’d once called ‘nameless liberty’ rested in his fans. His hand gave Akira’s a squeeze, and he smiled, burrowing into the blond’s neck even more, as their fingers were laced together and the humming became quiet singing.

He felt a million memories washing through him as Akira softly sang to him, and he let his thumb drift over the back of the blond’s hand, his way of showing recognition. “Cassis?” He felt the blond nod wordlessly, and he smiled, biting his lip as his eyes opened and he watched the rain fall around them. “You know, your cheese factor surpasses even mine sometimes.” He heard the blond chuckle in response, and he smiled, still following the blond in their slow dance. “But I think it would be safe to say that it’s one of many things I love about you.”

Akira stopped singing to allow a soft laugh to pass his lips. “What else is there to love about me, then?” He chuckled, and he pressed another damp kiss to Takanori’s hair, still smiling, rubbing his thumb over Takanori’s knuckle, letting his hand slip gently along the small of Takanori’s back. “Because I know that you haven’t stuck by me all these years just for my body.”

Takanori laughed, tilting his head back to look up at his love, his smile earning him another kiss. “But what if I love your body, too?” He laughed again, and he almost grinned as Akira rolled his eyes but allowed another kiss nonetheless. “I could name a million things. But it’s mostly just the fact that you’re you, to be honest.” He let his head return to Akira’s shoulder, and he shut his eyes, and though he was surprised that it was possible, he leaned against the blond just a little bit more.

“I wonder if it’s odd that I just love you.”

Takanori smiled, shaking his head, chuckling softly. “Abnormally and positively insane,” he said, and it earned him a chuckle, and he smiled as Akira resumed his quiet singing. “I’m glad that you love me, though.” The blond hummed in response between verses, and Takanori smiled. “Can’t imagine being this happy with anyone else but you.”

Their dance slowed to a stop, and Takanori lifted his head from the blond’s shoulder, smiling up at him, only to be met by a raised eyebrow and a slow-growing smile. “Do I really make you that happy?” His eyes practically sparkled when Takanori nodded, and he brought his hand up to comb his fingers through his love’s hair. “You don’t know what that means to me, love.”

“You’ve made me happy since day one, Akira.” He released the blond’s hand to slide his arms around his neck, and he grinned as Akira’s arms slid around him, pulling him closer, and he hummed in content as their lips met for a considerably longer kiss. He murmured an "I love you" into the kiss, and he could feel the blond’s smile against his own.

“You’re beautiful, Takanori.” He chuckled as the wind changed direction and he turned them as the rain followed suit, and he drew back to take a glance into his love’s eyes. He felt the love swell within him, and he wrapped his arms tight around the dark-haired man, earning what seemed to be a squeak of surprise, and he smiled and spun him around and kissed him before chuckling and setting him back down. “And I don’t care that you’re short, and I don’t care that you think you’re too skinny, and to hell with the fact that you change your hair more often than most people I know.”

“You forgot to mention my being the youngest in the band,” Takanori answered, and he smiled as he let his fingers sift through the blond’s dripping wet hair. “Youngest and shortest and possibly the most off-center.”

Akira smiled, and he framed his love’s face gently in his hands. “Takanori,” he said, “you could be the shortest, most abnormally skinny, craziest man in the entire universe. “ He paused, and he smiled, and he stroked his thumb over the dark-haired man’s cheek, reveling in the softness of his skin. “And you’d still be the most amazing, most stunningly beautiful man that I’ve ever known.”

Takanori smiled, and he wasn’t sure if it was a raindrop or a tear that slid down his cheek when Akira’s eyes closed and their foreheads rested together. But he shut his eyes too, and he could hear the blond whispering the last few lines of the song he’d been singing, and he could felt what could have been raindrops dripping down the blond’s face as they kissed.

Since his tenth birthday, the rain had always meant tears.

But this time, eighteen years later, the rain was beautiful.