Work Text:
Tetsurou blinks awake at the sound of a door being closed, sleep still clinging to the clouded edges of a fading dream. He blinks again, and Daichi is standing in front of him, a half-smile curving his mouth.
“Hey,” Tetsurou says, lifting his head off the back of the couch to smile back drowsily.
“Hey,” Daichi murmurs, bending to kiss his cheek. He’s softly shadowed by the dim yellow lights of the dressing room, smudged traces of eyeliner shadowing the corners of his eyes. “Tired?”
“Mm. Not used to how much energy it takes out of me.”
Daichi takes a second to shrug off his jacket and toss it on the arm of the couch, the slim chains decorating it jingling cheerfully, before sitting down and slipping an arm around Tetsurou’s shoulders. “Yeah, it takes some getting used to. Did you eat something?”
“Yeah, Alisa bought us a feast to celebrate,” Tetsurou yawns, leaning into Daichi and settling against his chest. “Can’t even imagine what she’ll be like when it’s our own tour. Buy out a restaurant, probably. I saved you some noodles and stuff, it’s in those boxes on the table.”
Daichi laughs softly, the sound humming through his chest. “Thanks, that’s sweet, but I just ate ten minutes ago.”
Tetsurou tilts his head, giving him an impish look. “You telling me that’s going to stop you?”
“Shut up,” Daichi says, pinching his arm none too gently, but he’s trying not to smile. “If you want me to eat I need both hands. Shift a bit.”
Tetsurou groans but moves, letting Daichi lean forward to grab the takeout boxes and a pair of chopsticks before settling back against him, tucking his nose into Daichi’s shoulder and winding an arm around his waist.
“Sorry it’s cold,” Tetsurou murmurs into Daichi’s shirt after a minute, eyes closed, and Daichi leans his cheek against Tetsurou’s head for a brief second.
“It’s fine. It tastes good.”
“Mm. You’ve still got some makeup on, by the way.”
“God, I need a bath,” he sighs. “We’ve got an autograph thing in about half an hour, though, so. Makeup stays on.”
“Gonna be signing posters till midnight, hm? I could hear the cheering from here, it was a really good show.”
“Noya's last drum solo was the most ridiculous thing,” Daichi says, half amused and half exasperated. “And Ryuu got this shiny new decal for his bass yesterday, and he was doing literally everything possible to make it flash into the camera while playing off of Noya.”
“They’re great entertainers,” Tetsurou chuckles. “Could have been worse, you could have had Hinata and Ryuu on stage at the same time.”
“Don’t even suggest that, ugh. Good thing we’re switching them out for different songs . . . what did you mean when you said you heard the cheering from here, though? I saw you guys in the audience, I thought you were watching.”
“I had to miss your last couple songs. Kenma wasn’t feeling too well, even before we performed.” Tetsurou lifts his head to press an apologetic kiss to Daichi’s cheek. “Sorry, but the noise and everything caught him on on a bad day.”
“Of course, Tetsu, it’s fine. Is he feeling better?”
“Better now, yeah.”
Daichi hums, taking the time to chew his next bite thoroughly and swallow before saying, “He’ll be fine, you know.”
“I hope so.”
“He will. I know you worry he wasn’t cut out for all this, but I think once Kenma’s made up his mind to do something, he’ll see it through from sheer stubbornness, if nothing else.”
Tetsurou chuckles, nuzzling into Daichi’s shoulder. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Daichi drops a light kiss on the top of his head. “You guys were really amazing today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Everything came together beautifully, everyone was in great form, and you -”
Tetsurou looks up again when he breaks off. “And I?”
“You owned the stage,” Daichi says, looking down at him with those warm, dark eyes. “You were incredible.”
Tetsurou reaches up to kiss him, soft and lingering, and Daichi melts into it with a quiet exhale, letting Tetsurou hold him steady with a hand cradling his cheek.
“I was totally just trying to impress you,” he says, not bothering to hide his grin when they break apart, and Daichi laughs.
“It worked,” he says, kissing his forehead this time before returning to the food.
“Thanks, Dai.”
Daichi’s done eating in another minute or two, stacking the empty boxes neatly on the table before leaning back and pulling Tetsurou into a proper hug, tucking his head underneath his chin. Tetsurou has to bend a little more than is strictly comfortable for it to work, but it’s an insignificant price to pay for the precious few moments they get together like this.
“We’ll be competitors soon,” Daichi murmurs, fingers stroking gently through Tetsurou’s hair. “Or maybe you’ll get so famous that we’ll end up opening for you, instead of the other way around.”
“Yeah, right,” Tetsurou snorts. “The day your - what are they called? Crow Legion, yeah, the day you lose their loyalty is the day the apocalypse arrives. There’s no other way your millions of fans would ever give up on you guys.”
“We don’t have millions of -”
“Besides, when we start selling out stadiums like this one I’ll probably be too nervous to even step on stage. Like poor Azumane.”
“Shut up, Asahi was just frantic because he thought he lost his lucky pick like ten minutes before we had to go onstage. He’s great when he performs, and you will be too.”
“Such faith in me, Sawamura.”
It slips out, light and teasing, before he realises what he’s said, and Daichi doesn’t reply for a second. Tetsurou knows he’s remembering their training together, endless hours of vocal practise and auditioning and so many sleepless nights wondering if they’d ever have a career. He’s remembering the two of them facing each other in Tetsuoru’s dorm room, paired up to perform for the coaches because they’d been toying with the idea of making them a duo, and Daichi had said We’re going to blow them away tomorrow with this unshakeable confidence, and Tetsurou had smirked and said Such faith in my abilities, Sawamura, and Daichi had said -
“Of course.” Daichi’s hand slides under Tetsurou’s chin, tilting his face up to meet his gaze. “I know what you can do.”
And he’d said it just like this, grounding and true and steady, like he knows Tetsurou’s limits better than he does and doesn’t have a shadow of doubt that he’ll push past them to reach even higher.
“Daichi,” Tetsurou says, and it comes out quieter, hoarser than he’d meant it to.
“Yeah,” Daichi murmurs, already bending to kiss him.
It’s so easy now, this infinitely gentle push and pull, the way Daichi coaxes his mouth open and the way Tetsurou lets him, the familiarity of Daichi’s thumb stroking his jaw and the sound he makes when Tetsurou nips lightly at his lip, the surety with which Tetsurou’s fingers curl into his collar and the warm weight of Daichi’s hand settled on his back, palm centred perfectly over Tetsurou’s spine.
It wasn’t always this easy. It took them so much time to get past the skeptical first meeting, past the tentative friendship, past the feelings that bloomed terrifyingly fast and the lung-tight fear that pushed them apart and the scorching, gritted-teeth honesty that brought them back together. It took four and a half years of panic-fuelled arguments and stolen kisses and silent tears soaking through pillowcases, of being caught and battered between the unstoppable force that was love and the immovable object that was their duty to their nascent careers. This ease, this comfort, this tenderness was so dearly won - and it’s all the more precious because of it.
They ignore Daichi’s phone buzzing once, twice, but Daichi draws back reluctantly the third time. “I need to go,” he murmurs, kissing Tetsurou’s forehead.
“Probably,” Tetsurou says, making a spirited attempt to capture his mouth again, but Daichi turns away, and fuck, Tetsurou is far too familiar with the regret sitting in the twist of his mouth.
“They’ll come looking for me, Tetsu.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Tetsurou closes his eyes - allowing himself one more moment with the warmth of his body, one more breath laced with the smell of his cologne - and then he moves so Daichi can get up.
Daichi picks up his jacket, shrugs it on, turns to Tetsurou, holds out a hand with his sweetest smile settled in his eyes. Tetsurou is smiling back even as he sighs and takes his hand, and they walk to the door with fingers tangled together.
“This never gets easier,” Tetsurou says, almost to himself, and Daichi squeezes his hand.
“It doesn’t,” he says quietly. “Tetsu, I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
Daichi turns to lean with his back against the door, reaching out for Tetsurou’s other hand and drawing him close enough so their foreheads can rest together. “We’re, uh . . . we’re going to be on a talk show on Wednesday,” he murmurs into the space between their mouths. “Yui’s evening show. They sent across the questions already, asking if we’re okay with the script.”
“Ah,” Tetsurou says softly. “Dating?”
“Yeah. Any partners or any crushes, the usual. Everyone else is fine with it, it would be weird if I said no when none of them know that we’re - if I was the only one who didn’t want -”
“I know, Dai.” Tetsurou kisses the curve of his cheekbone lightly. “I don’t mind. You going to say there’s a girl? Finally get the thirsty fans off your back?”
Daichi makes a quiet, hurt sound, but doesn’t deny it. A tiny pang pierces through the centre of Tetsurou’s heart, but he knows Daichi is feeling a hundred times worse, so he chuckles and says, “It’s fine, sweetheart. Say she has a great voice, yeah? And she’s the smartest person you know, and she’s taller than you and won’t shut up about it -”
“I’m -” Daichi’s squeezes both his hands, tight. “All I’m going to say that I’ve known my partner since I was a trainee, and that they’re - they’re the best person I know. And that I don’t get to see them very often, but I wouldn’t know what to do without them.”
Tetsurou stands frozen for a second, not entirely sure if he heard right. “But - the company?” he whispers. “Your manager? Daichi -”
“Fuck the company,” Daichi whispers back. “I won’t say anything more than that, and they’ll deal with it. And Kiyoko already knows, and I’m going to tell the guys tomorrow. Not that it’s you, just that there’s someone and it’s not necessarily a woman. That’s it. I just - I just wanted to let you know, to ask if you’re okay with -”
Tetsurou kisses him, hard and swift and desperate, pushing him back against the door so they’re pressed chest to chest, hips flush together. Daichi makes a sound halfway between surprise and want before kissing him back just as hard.
“You,” Tetsurou pants when they break apart, “you - of course I’m okay with it, I love you so much, fuck, I can’t believe -”
“Sawamura-san? Are you here?”
Both of them jump - the anxious voice is from the other side of the door, a little distant but quickly approaching. Daichi swears under his breath, shoves Tetsurou away in one swift motion, and turns to pull the door open and step outside.
“Yacchan, hey -”
“Sawamura-san! I’m so glad I found you, you really need to get to the event, it’s due to start in five minutes and you need to have your makeup retouched and -”
Tetsurou takes a few steps backwards, heart still hammering in his chest as he listens to Daichi try and calm Yachi down.
“- lost track of time talking, I’ll be there in a minute,” Daichi is saying. “I left my phone inside, just let me grab it, okay?”
“Sure! Should I go and tell Kiyoko-san -”
“Yes, please do, and please tell her I’m sorry for being late. I’ll be right behind you, okay?”
“Okay!”
Quick footsteps recede as Daichi slips back inside. He takes a long breath and lets it out slowly, then looks up to meet Tetsurou’s gaze, his smile relieved and on the verge of laughter.
“That was too close, fuck,” Tetsurou says, close to laughter himself. “Daichi, you should go -”
But Daichi is already moving towards him, already reaching up to pull him into a firm kiss. Tetsurou puts an arm around his waist to hold him steady as they sway a little, leaning into each other.
“I love you too,” Daichi says into his skin, pressing a quick series of kisses down the line of his jaw. “So much.”
Tetsurou exhales, quiet and shaky, the bittersweet taste of goodbye heavy on his tongue. “Good luck on the tour, you’re gonna be amazing. I’ll watch every minute of it that’s telecast, and I’ll call you as much as I can, and -”
Daichi kisses him again, soft and quick. “Two months, and I’ll be back,” he says, leaning back to look at Tetsurou. “It’ll be gone before you know it, and I’m going to be looking forward to listening to your new album when I’m back, yeah? So don’t even think about slacking off.”
“Yeah,” Tetsurou laughs, kissing the tip of his nose lightly. “Yeah, I won’t.”
“Okay.” Daichi finally lets go, finally takes a step back. In his eyes is the simmering heat of everything they’ve said before in a hundred midnight phone calls and a thousand secret touches, betraying his calm voice and his steady hands, and Tetsurou thinks he could die burning in those flames and never know a happier death.
“Go,” he says, shoving his own hands in his pockets. They’re trembling with the effort of not reaching out to him. “Text me when you reach Sendai.”
“I -”
“Go, Daichi.”
Daichi takes another step back, and another, and another, not looking away until his hand is on the door. “See you, Tetsu,” he says, so softly, and then he’s gone.
And Tetsurou’s hands are still trembling, and he wants Daichi back in his arms so badly it feels like acid eating through his heart -
- but they’ve done this before, and they’ll do it again as long as they have to. So Tetsurou breathes in, breathes out, and leaves the room to go find his band with his chin up, his eyes dry, and his shoulders squared.
He can do no less, knowing that Daichi is doing the same for him.