Hajime no Insho
sho nijusan.
“That was…fucking amazing.”
Kouyou snorted. “Eloquent today, aren’t we, Suzuki?”
“Mm, only for you, Kouyou, and you know it.” He grinned, and he snickered as Kouyou rolled his eyes and took a lazy drag of his cigarette, his gaze fixed on the bassist, looking incredibly not amused yet inevitably just as affected by the last live of the tour as the other members of the band. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t heard worse, or said worse, or anything else.”
The guitarist narrowed his eyes for a moment, decided that their usual banter wasn’t worth screwing up the overall air of accomplishment around them, and then settled against Yuu’s side in resignation. “Sometimes, Akira,” he said, and he crossed his arms over his chest, “you’re a real asshole.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Akira snorted, and he smiled just a bit as Kouyou yawned and leaned against Yuu just a bit more, and he looked over at Yutaka, who was lost in a book, and then at Takanori, who was watching Akira and Kouyou with amusement. He flashed a grin, earning a snicker and a thumbs-up in response, and then Takanori shook his head.
“You’re acting really weird today, Akira. Usually you’re all over the place; right now you look kind of tense.” His eyebrow raised, and for a moment, he considered letting his usual smirk-smile take over his features, and he considered a witty remark, but the bassist looked genuinely nervous about something, and Takanori moved closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Seriously, Akira. Are you okay?”
And as he glanced up at Yuu and Kouyou, the bassist considered his options. He could claim that he was fine and he just wasn’t ready to be done yet, smile and say that he was only having girl trouble and it wasn’t anything serious, or shake his head and somehow prompt Takanori to want to get him alone. The first was reasonable, as the tour with Hanamake hadn’t lasted nearly long enough, but the second was absolutely ludicrous; Akira hadn’t actually dated anyone since he and Takanori Matsumoto had met, and the singer knew that better than anyone.
So he opted for the third. He shook his head, ignoring the goose bumps that Takanori’s touch had created on his arm, and looked back at the singer, having noted that Kouyou was the only one of the five of them that was actually asleep. “Actually, um. I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”
Takanori nodded, giving the bassist’s arm a squeeze. “Of course.” The look of concern on his face was genuine, and Akira also chose to ignore that his nerves seemed to have taken a visible hold on his gut and were currently squeezing with all their might. “We don’t have to talk here. How about the dressing room, hm?”
Akira smiled a little, and he nodded, and he rose and waited Takanori to do the same and he walked out of the lounge, down the hall a few doors, and into the dressing room, the singer following right behind him and respectfully closing the door once they were both inside. And though he was entirely aware of Takanori’s concerned gaze being focused on him, he chose to observe the counter, where all the makeup and hair styling products were stored, and his hands found his pockets, and there was a legitimate flush on his cheeks that was, thankfully, hidden by the noseband tied across his face.
“Akira?”
“You have to…you have to promise that you won’t laugh or call me an idiot or something. Okay?”
Takanori nodded, stepping closer to his friend. “Okay, I promise. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I…thinkI’minlovewithyou.” The words were quiet, barely spoken, and Akira’s gut was being twisted, and he knew he hadn’t said it loud enough, but hell; he hadn’t said it to anyone for years. And he finally looked back up at Takanori, who looked confused, and he sighed. He knew he had to try again, and he spent a few moments gathering up enough courage just to speak a little bit louder, and he bit his lip as it proved to be harder than he’d thought.
“Just tell me, hm? Seriously; you’re worrying me.”
Wide, dark brown eyes locked onto amber ones, and Akira felt incredibly vulnerable as Takanori’s hand touched his arm, and he hadn’t realized how close they were until he could feel the warmth of Takanori’s body radiating on to his. He swallowed hard, and he bit his lip once more, and he took a deep breath. “Takanori.”
“Yes, that’s me. What is it?”
“I…I love you.” Speaking the words made his heart plummet into his stomach, and he felt his eyes water just slightly as the singer’s eyes flashed with recognition. He’d said it, Takanori had heard him, and now his sanity rested in the singer’s hands. And for a moment, Takanori looked uncertain about what could come next, and more words spluttered their way out of Akira’s mouth. “I- I know it took forever, and I know you might- you might not be interested in me at all, but I love you and I-“
Takanori placed his fingers on the bassist’s lips, shushing him, and he could sense Akira tensing, preparing himself for rejection, and then he shut his eyes, slid his hand onto the bassist’s cheek, and pulled him down so that their lips could meet. He stroked Akira’s skin as the bassist took a few seconds to register what was happening, and then he smiled just slightly as hands hesitantly settled onto his hips, and he shivered as Akira exhaled slowly through his nose, relaxing, the warm breath tickling their connected mouths.
And then Takanori pulled back just slightly to kiss the corners of the blond’s mouth, and he smiled.
“You mean you-“
“Shh.”
Akira was silent, and he was blinking, and he looked stunned. His thumbs brushed over Takanori’s hipbones, causing the smaller man to shiver, and as the singer’s head found his chest and his arms found their way around his waist, Akira’s only natural reaction was to hold the singer close, and he smiled as he rested his cheek on the top of Takanori’s head. His heart had somehow found its way back to its proper place, and his pulse was going insane, and he shut his eyes as he held Takanori close. “Thank you, Takanori,” he whispered, and it seemed to be enough.
Takanori hummed in response, and he stroked the bassist’s shoulder blades for just a moment, and he was blissfully unaware as tears of happiness dropped from Akira’s cheeks.
Kouyou snorted. “Eloquent today, aren’t we, Suzuki?”
“Mm, only for you, Kouyou, and you know it.” He grinned, and he snickered as Kouyou rolled his eyes and took a lazy drag of his cigarette, his gaze fixed on the bassist, looking incredibly not amused yet inevitably just as affected by the last live of the tour as the other members of the band. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t heard worse, or said worse, or anything else.”
The guitarist narrowed his eyes for a moment, decided that their usual banter wasn’t worth screwing up the overall air of accomplishment around them, and then settled against Yuu’s side in resignation. “Sometimes, Akira,” he said, and he crossed his arms over his chest, “you’re a real asshole.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Akira snorted, and he smiled just a bit as Kouyou yawned and leaned against Yuu just a bit more, and he looked over at Yutaka, who was lost in a book, and then at Takanori, who was watching Akira and Kouyou with amusement. He flashed a grin, earning a snicker and a thumbs-up in response, and then Takanori shook his head.
“You’re acting really weird today, Akira. Usually you’re all over the place; right now you look kind of tense.” His eyebrow raised, and for a moment, he considered letting his usual smirk-smile take over his features, and he considered a witty remark, but the bassist looked genuinely nervous about something, and Takanori moved closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Seriously, Akira. Are you okay?”
And as he glanced up at Yuu and Kouyou, the bassist considered his options. He could claim that he was fine and he just wasn’t ready to be done yet, smile and say that he was only having girl trouble and it wasn’t anything serious, or shake his head and somehow prompt Takanori to want to get him alone. The first was reasonable, as the tour with Hanamake hadn’t lasted nearly long enough, but the second was absolutely ludicrous; Akira hadn’t actually dated anyone since he and Takanori Matsumoto had met, and the singer knew that better than anyone.
So he opted for the third. He shook his head, ignoring the goose bumps that Takanori’s touch had created on his arm, and looked back at the singer, having noted that Kouyou was the only one of the five of them that was actually asleep. “Actually, um. I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”
Takanori nodded, giving the bassist’s arm a squeeze. “Of course.” The look of concern on his face was genuine, and Akira also chose to ignore that his nerves seemed to have taken a visible hold on his gut and were currently squeezing with all their might. “We don’t have to talk here. How about the dressing room, hm?”
Akira smiled a little, and he nodded, and he rose and waited Takanori to do the same and he walked out of the lounge, down the hall a few doors, and into the dressing room, the singer following right behind him and respectfully closing the door once they were both inside. And though he was entirely aware of Takanori’s concerned gaze being focused on him, he chose to observe the counter, where all the makeup and hair styling products were stored, and his hands found his pockets, and there was a legitimate flush on his cheeks that was, thankfully, hidden by the noseband tied across his face.
“Akira?”
“You have to…you have to promise that you won’t laugh or call me an idiot or something. Okay?”
Takanori nodded, stepping closer to his friend. “Okay, I promise. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I…thinkI’minlovewithyou.” The words were quiet, barely spoken, and Akira’s gut was being twisted, and he knew he hadn’t said it loud enough, but hell; he hadn’t said it to anyone for years. And he finally looked back up at Takanori, who looked confused, and he sighed. He knew he had to try again, and he spent a few moments gathering up enough courage just to speak a little bit louder, and he bit his lip as it proved to be harder than he’d thought.
“Just tell me, hm? Seriously; you’re worrying me.”
Wide, dark brown eyes locked onto amber ones, and Akira felt incredibly vulnerable as Takanori’s hand touched his arm, and he hadn’t realized how close they were until he could feel the warmth of Takanori’s body radiating on to his. He swallowed hard, and he bit his lip once more, and he took a deep breath. “Takanori.”
“Yes, that’s me. What is it?”
“I…I love you.” Speaking the words made his heart plummet into his stomach, and he felt his eyes water just slightly as the singer’s eyes flashed with recognition. He’d said it, Takanori had heard him, and now his sanity rested in the singer’s hands. And for a moment, Takanori looked uncertain about what could come next, and more words spluttered their way out of Akira’s mouth. “I- I know it took forever, and I know you might- you might not be interested in me at all, but I love you and I-“
Takanori placed his fingers on the bassist’s lips, shushing him, and he could sense Akira tensing, preparing himself for rejection, and then he shut his eyes, slid his hand onto the bassist’s cheek, and pulled him down so that their lips could meet. He stroked Akira’s skin as the bassist took a few seconds to register what was happening, and then he smiled just slightly as hands hesitantly settled onto his hips, and he shivered as Akira exhaled slowly through his nose, relaxing, the warm breath tickling their connected mouths.
And then Takanori pulled back just slightly to kiss the corners of the blond’s mouth, and he smiled.
“You mean you-“
“Shh.”
Akira was silent, and he was blinking, and he looked stunned. His thumbs brushed over Takanori’s hipbones, causing the smaller man to shiver, and as the singer’s head found his chest and his arms found their way around his waist, Akira’s only natural reaction was to hold the singer close, and he smiled as he rested his cheek on the top of Takanori’s head. His heart had somehow found its way back to its proper place, and his pulse was going insane, and he shut his eyes as he held Takanori close. “Thank you, Takanori,” he whispered, and it seemed to be enough.
Takanori hummed in response, and he stroked the bassist’s shoulder blades for just a moment, and he was blissfully unaware as tears of happiness dropped from Akira’s cheeks.