Hajime no Insho
sho sanjusan.
“Takanori?”
“Hm?” Takanori looked up, and he grinned as Akira came over to him, sitting next to him on the couch and greeting him with a kiss.
Akira chuckled, breaking the kiss, and raised an eyebrow as Takanori shut his notebook and kissed him again. “What are you up to over here, hm?” He chuckled as Takanori beamed at him, hand on his notebook, and rested a hand over the singer’s, lacing their fingers together.
Takanori smiled, and his eyes were twinkling, and he reached up with his free hand to rest his palm on Akira’s cheek, thumb brushing along his skin. “It’s a surprise,” he said, and his voice was so incredibly soft, and Akira leaned forward, claiming his lips in a kiss that was just as soft, and Takanori’s hand slipped from his face, resting on the cushion instead. “Something for the band.”
“Mm.”
“Something for you, too.”
“All in one? Wow, I’m a lucky guy.” He grinned, and he gave Takanori’s hand a gentle squeeze, lifting their interlocked hands and kissing each of Takanori’s knuckles, grinning at the man that he was lucky enough to be able to love. “Couldn’t I have a hint, though? You know I love having something to dangle over Kouyou’s head.” He pressed another line of kisses to Takanori’s knuckles, smiling hopefully, and then beamed as Takanori gave a small nod.
And Takanori’s voice was soft as he said, “’kira, I’m writing you a song.”
Akira looked up, and he was sure that his heart stopped, and he let Takanori’s hand slip from his. Takanori smiled ever so softly for him, framing his face in his hands, and drew him forward for a soft kiss, resting their foreheads together when their lips broke apart. And he let his hands wrap around the singer’s forearms, rubbing gently, and he shut his eyes. “I love you, ‘nori,” he whispered, and he could actually feel his heart swan dive into his stomach as the tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.
“I love you too.” He let out a quiet sigh, and then he smiled, his thumbs brushing at the corners of the blond’s eyes. His eyes closed, and he held Akira’s face as though the most valuable treasure on the planet rested between his palms, and then his hands slipped to the bassist’s neck. “You’ve made me so happy, ‘kira. I just want to show you how much.”
Akira opened his eyes just slightly to look at Takanori, whose eyes were also opened just a little, and he smiled; the slightest curve of his mouth, and it was the most beautiful thing Takanori had ever seen. He let out a puff of a breath, and he kissed along the curve of Akira’s smile, and wrapped his arms around the bassist’s neck as arms wound their way around his waist and pulled him close. “You don’t have to show me, though,” Akira said quietly. “It’s enough just being with you.”
“But I want to.” He paused, laying his head on Akira’s shoulder, inhaling him and his scent, and then he smiled. “I want to make you happy, too.”
Akira chuckled, and his voice was quiet and shaky as he kissed the singer’s hair and breathed, “You already do.” He pressed another kiss to the wine-red strands, his fingers running along the singer’s back, and then he whispered, “God, Takanori, you already make me so happy, and you’ve no idea how much.” And he smiled a little, and the smile wavered slightly as a few tears dripped from his eyes, and he held Takanori closer, letting his eyes close. One hand came up to stroke wine-red strands of hair, and the other rested on the small of the singer’s back.
Takanori rested peacefully against him, and he cried silently as the singer’s hold on his heart increased once more.
“Hm?” Takanori looked up, and he grinned as Akira came over to him, sitting next to him on the couch and greeting him with a kiss.
Akira chuckled, breaking the kiss, and raised an eyebrow as Takanori shut his notebook and kissed him again. “What are you up to over here, hm?” He chuckled as Takanori beamed at him, hand on his notebook, and rested a hand over the singer’s, lacing their fingers together.
Takanori smiled, and his eyes were twinkling, and he reached up with his free hand to rest his palm on Akira’s cheek, thumb brushing along his skin. “It’s a surprise,” he said, and his voice was so incredibly soft, and Akira leaned forward, claiming his lips in a kiss that was just as soft, and Takanori’s hand slipped from his face, resting on the cushion instead. “Something for the band.”
“Mm.”
“Something for you, too.”
“All in one? Wow, I’m a lucky guy.” He grinned, and he gave Takanori’s hand a gentle squeeze, lifting their interlocked hands and kissing each of Takanori’s knuckles, grinning at the man that he was lucky enough to be able to love. “Couldn’t I have a hint, though? You know I love having something to dangle over Kouyou’s head.” He pressed another line of kisses to Takanori’s knuckles, smiling hopefully, and then beamed as Takanori gave a small nod.
And Takanori’s voice was soft as he said, “’kira, I’m writing you a song.”
Akira looked up, and he was sure that his heart stopped, and he let Takanori’s hand slip from his. Takanori smiled ever so softly for him, framing his face in his hands, and drew him forward for a soft kiss, resting their foreheads together when their lips broke apart. And he let his hands wrap around the singer’s forearms, rubbing gently, and he shut his eyes. “I love you, ‘nori,” he whispered, and he could actually feel his heart swan dive into his stomach as the tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.
“I love you too.” He let out a quiet sigh, and then he smiled, his thumbs brushing at the corners of the blond’s eyes. His eyes closed, and he held Akira’s face as though the most valuable treasure on the planet rested between his palms, and then his hands slipped to the bassist’s neck. “You’ve made me so happy, ‘kira. I just want to show you how much.”
Akira opened his eyes just slightly to look at Takanori, whose eyes were also opened just a little, and he smiled; the slightest curve of his mouth, and it was the most beautiful thing Takanori had ever seen. He let out a puff of a breath, and he kissed along the curve of Akira’s smile, and wrapped his arms around the bassist’s neck as arms wound their way around his waist and pulled him close. “You don’t have to show me, though,” Akira said quietly. “It’s enough just being with you.”
“But I want to.” He paused, laying his head on Akira’s shoulder, inhaling him and his scent, and then he smiled. “I want to make you happy, too.”
Akira chuckled, and his voice was quiet and shaky as he kissed the singer’s hair and breathed, “You already do.” He pressed another kiss to the wine-red strands, his fingers running along the singer’s back, and then he whispered, “God, Takanori, you already make me so happy, and you’ve no idea how much.” And he smiled a little, and the smile wavered slightly as a few tears dripped from his eyes, and he held Takanori closer, letting his eyes close. One hand came up to stroke wine-red strands of hair, and the other rested on the small of the singer’s back.
Takanori rested peacefully against him, and he cried silently as the singer’s hold on his heart increased once more.