Archive of Our Own

Akito had a lot of regrets. He regrets the way he treated Ena when they were growing up, regrets dropping the only hobby he ever really excelled at, regrets quitting the only thing he ever really felt passionate about, regrets practically every decision he’s made in the past couple of years. Though, throughout all of the regrets he still keeps with himself, Akito found himself looking back on one particular moment with more regret than he's ever felt. 

—

“Toya, stop it.” Young and dumb, Akito shoves Toya off of himself, cringing at the thin string of saliva that snaps between their lips. Toya looks up at Akito with those gorgeous doe eyes, shiny and gray as he obeys Akito’s word. 

“I’m sorry, should I stop?” Toya’s delicate hands danced around Akito’s body, pianist fingers grazing the thick hoodie blocking his skin. Akito just huffs, feigning disgust to both himself and Toya, teeth bared in an aggravated grimace. 

“That’s what I fucking said, wasn’t it?” He finds himself biting his lip as soon as the words are out, Toya’s sensitive, even if he doesn’t show it, and he knows his tone was too harsh for Toya to take. “We can’t fucking do this, man…” Toya looks at him through his lashes, eyes sad and confused as he slinks his hands off of Akito’s warm body. 

“What do you mean, Akito?” Soft, so soft… It’s disgusting, the way Akito likes it, Toya’s pretty features, his soft face and gorgeous voice, almost like a girl. But he’s not, he’s a boy, and so is Akito, so they can’t get like this, can’t kiss the way they were. Toya’s just too cute to resist though, or at least, that was Akito’s excuse until now. 

“Can’t keep fucking kissing and shit, dude. We’re both boys, and I’m not a fucking faggot, Toya.” Akito trails off, waving his hand around as he speaks. “I’m not fucking like that, okay? Agreeing to this in the first place was a fucking mistake.” Akito hates the way he can see Toya’s heart break, gray eyes shattering as he pulls away, a quiet gasp on his pink, kiss swollen lips. 

“Oh.” His voice is trembling, and Akito can’t fight off the wince that crosses his face as Toya’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry, I never…” Toya swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, making something sick in Akito just feel so attracted, those masculine features drawing him in despite his words. He doesn’t like that, though, he doesn’t…

“I never meant to make you uncomfortable, Akito. I didn’t know you weren’t…” Toya stood, lean figure outlined by sunlight streaming in through Akito’s bedroom window. “I’ll leave you alone, Akito.” Grabbing his school bag from off of the bedroom floor, Toya turned to the door, shoulders trembling, and left without another word.

Akito didn’t know that would be the last time he’d see Toya for the next five years.

—

Now, Akito lives alone in some dingy apartment in the city, working the same shitty retail job he’s been working since high school, spending his free time going to live shows and watching people live out the dream he once had for himself. He drinks a lot too, now. Booze helps soothe the ache that settles deep in his bones when he thinks too much about everything he’s ruined for himself. He still talks to An sometimes, she’ll take him out for either lunch or drinks at least once a month, but her and Kohane really made it big, she doesn’t have the time to be hanging around a nobody like him anymore, not when she has dreams to chase. 

‘Least interesting of the bunch.’ those words ring in his head more than they ever did when he was a shiny eyed teen, An and Kohane were really stars, now, and Toya…

Ah, he doesn’t know what happened to Toya. His ex-partner was a sore subject for him, one day they were close as could be, attached at the hip, and the next Toya’s a distant memory of the past, pale skin and soft hair fading in his mind. He doesn’t even know how Toya just disappeared, that night was the last memory he had of the best era of his life. 

God, it was years ago, why wasn’t he over him yet? The thought makes him almost nauseous, wanting to be ‘over him’, he’s not in love with him or anything. He’s not like that, the words are bitter and childish in his mind, but he clings to them with his whole being. He fights it with everything in him, but sometimes, late at night, he finds himself longing for smooth planes of pale skin, for long eyelashes that frame smokey eyes, for berry pink lips and dark moles and silky hair and Toya, Toya, Toya-!

Akito slams back a shot. 

Standing weakly in the middle of his tiny ass kitchen, cheap liquor clenched in his hand, Akito yearns. It’s barely even an acceptable time to be drinking, if Ena were to see him she’d probably say he’s just like their father. Makes him sick to think about that. She’s made it, too. Her art is all over the internet, gorgeous pieces that would make even their shitty fucking father proud of her, even if he denied it. 

He’s just the fuck up, apparently. It’s no surprise, he always knew that he’d be the fuck up, washed up teen idol with no fucking life. He had no talent, no skill, none of the dedication that he needed to succeed in life. Really, there’s nothing for him, he doesn’t ever do anything, so what’s the point of still hanging around?

Another shot sounds good. 

The lights are off, and Akito can’t remember if it’s because he turned them off or forgot to pay for them. Doesn’t matter, really, he doesn’t need to see to drink. His face finds his hand, and he’s leaning heavily against the counter, vision swirling a little as the bottle knocks against granite. He should go to bed, or to his couch, or just sit for a minute. Sinking to his knees, Akito leans his forehead against the cabinet door, handles digging against his flesh. 

There’s some sort of buzzing, and it takes too long to realize that his phone’s ringing, shrill and annoying, piercing through the fog in his head. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he sees the familiar contact of An, the only person who bothers calling him these days besides his mom and sister. 

“Whaddya want, An?” Akito groans, closing his eyes and leaning back against the cupboard. There’s some crazed whispering on the other end, girly voices quiet and high pitched, clearly excited about something. It has to be An and Kohane, there’s no one else he knows who sounds like that. 

“Akito, you’re never gonna fucking believe what we just found.” An’s voice cuts through the giddy whispers, sounding more enthused than Akito’s felt in the past years of his life. “Accept the fucking video call, you need to see it.” Akito groans again, pulling the phone from his ear and accepting the call offer. An’s stupid smiling face comes on his shitty screen, Kohane in the background, golden hair down in a more mature style now that she’s older. 

“What the fuck is so important that you gotta show me?” Akito slurs slightly, the bright light of his screen making his head start to throb. She motions for Kohane to lift her phone up, and there’s a post made by a live house they used to frequent when they were a full squad. 

“He’s coming back, Akito.” Her voice holds so much disbelief, and Akito’s confused as to who she means until he really fucking looks. It’s a solo performer, with short, choppy blue hair in a mullet around his silky neck. Glittery makeup decorates his eyelids, lashes long with mascara and almost obscuring the silver irises beneath. He’s singing into a microphone, body shimmering with the sweat that comes with a performance, some flowy white shirt tucked into sequined pants, an absolute spectacle of a performer. His hair’s short enough that Akito’s able to see the cute little mole just under his eye. “Never thought he was the type of guy for this style, eh?”

“What the fuck.” Akito’s voice comes out in a rush, weak and trembling, staring at the image of a boy he once thought lost. “What the fuck?!” Harsher, angrier now. “Why the fuck are you showing me this, you fucking asshole?! I don’t want anything to do with that fucking freak!” Akito’s voice is damn near shrill, cursing An’s head off. “I don’t fucking give a shit what the fuck he’s doing now, what the hell do you want from me?!” His heart pounds, and the image is burned into his mind long after Kohane drops her phone from the camera’s view. 

“Jesus fuck, calm down, Akito!!” An’s never been one to shy away from yelling, turning the camera back towards her face. “I thought you’d be happy that he’s doing well for himself, considering how you left him!” She looks mad, amber eyes burning with long buried anger over her old friend.

“Oh excuse me, it’s not my fucking fault he thought I was like him! I was just putting him back in his fucking place, letting him know what it’s gonna be like for guys like him!” Fuck, Toya looked good in that photo. The thought is followed by disgust, his stomach feeling the need to purge all the alcohol and shitty breakfast he had that morning. 

“Fucking hell, Akito! You’re a goddamn wreck these days, I’ve never seen you happier than back when you two were friends, could you get over your fucking issues and let yourself have something for once?!” An shouts, eyebrows twisting down as she gets more pissed. “Good god, you’re so miserable! Despite how horrible you were to him, I doubt he’d even hate you, so just take the fucking chance!” 

“Fuck you,” His visions blurring, black spots dancing around the corners as he slides further down the cabinet, head smacking the floor. “Piece of shit.” Akito fumbles for the hang up button, smacking it with his other hand until An’s voice disappears. As his vision fully blacks out, Akito finds himself thinking fuck, he might still be attracted to Toya. 

—

When he wakes up, he’s still slumped on his kitchen floor, the liquor he was drinking spilled out around him, half soaked into the shirt he was wearing. He blinks wearily, a yawn hot on his lips as he opens his phone, wincing as he sees the low battery. He has a few notifications from some shitty news site he subscribed to, and one from An. 

It’s the link to the post she showed him earlier. 

He almost wants to ignore it, but the sight of Toya is enough to make him open it. He just looks so different, extravagant style absurd compared to the mellow boy he used to know. The glitter and the hair and the clothes and the glitter, it’s nothing like Toya he knew, nothing like the fashion so heavily influenced by Akito’s, or the same hairstyle he’d had since he was 5, it’s fucking jarring. 

Akito seethes to himself, he’s been staring too long to consider normal, it makes him ill. Everything makes him ill, really. Fucking hell. Sighing, Akito lets his eyes drift down to the caption, reading the small blurb of text that underlines the image. ‘Come see @MYSTYC at CRAVE STAGE, debuting his new album, heatstroke, LIVE! Once in a lifetime event!’ The address of the live house is listed next, and it’s not too far from where he lives. He could walk there, if he wanted to. He wouldn’t want to though, obviously. 

He’ll still request off work that day though, just in case.

Maybe he’ll wear something nice. 

Maybe he won’t.

–

Why the fuck was he here again? 

Akito finds himself at the stupid fucking live house, minutes before ‘MYSTYC’ was said to perform, nursing some cheap beer a hot girl was giving out. He feels a little sick, nerves clawing at his stomach as he freaks out, he’s about to see the only person that's been on his mind since he was some dumb fucking teenager, and he has no idea how he’s supposed to react. 

There’s a group of squealing school girls at the front of the crowd, bouncing and yelling excitedly. Some things never change, apparently. The crowd is really not one Akito’s comfortable in, though. There’s boys rubbing against other boys and girls getting handsy with other girls, and even a decent handful of people that look too in between for him to identify. Fucking weirdos, of course this is the crowd Toya would garner with his new ‘cool’ look, the freak. 

The lights begin to dim, and with them Akito’s stomach drops. 

Slow, methodic footsteps sound from behind the curtain, and before long he emerges, tall and lean and so fucking breathtaking. There’s a microphone in one hand, his other twirling the cord around his fingers, lithe and pretty. Akito hates it. 

“Hey.” Akito gets whiplash, choking on the stupid cheap drink at the sound of a voice once so familiar. Tears spring to his eyes without his consent, he’s so fucking sick. The crowd erupts into cheers though, and that soft smile that was once saved specifically for quiet nights in his bedroom is shone on the crowd. Jealousy spreads like a wildfire in his body, hot and overwhelming. That was his smile, Toya was his partner…

“Who's ready for a show?” His voice is still nostalgically monotone, eyes downturned and smeared with shimmering silver, black eyeliner accentuating the sharp look of his eyes. Toya’s lips are covered in a similar shiny gloss, glittering with speckles of silver and bronze. The filthy thought crosses his mind of what it’d be like to kiss those lips, but he reasons he’d be the same with a girl wearing the same makeup. “Oh, yeah?” Music starts as Toya takes center stage, a semi transparent, white button shirt half tucked into a pair of dark blue slacks. He’s a fucking giant, natural height only enhanced by the thick platforms on his shoes, shiny leather reflecting the neon lights. 

“I said, oh yeah?!” Akito flinches hard at the harsh change in tone, Toya’s face shaping into a sneer as his voice picks up. The music is loud and brash, the crowd starting to thrash around Akito, shoving and bumping him as the music picks up. Toya’s singing like never before, angry and emotional, one hand on his heart as he sings from his chest. The song is some bullshit about heartbreak, glittery tracks a part of his weird ass makeup, resembling tears. 

He’s entranced, though, unable to look away from Toya as he performs, body glowing in the low light. He hasn’t been to a show in so long, and hasn’t seen Toya in even longer, a part of him is angry that he’s shoved in the crowd with the rest of these assholes, he should be up there with Toya, taking the world by storm with his partner. 

“I didn’t know you weren’t….” The thought of that night crosses his head at the same time the words come from Toya’s mouth, Akito staring up in shock as the familiar words are recited as lyrics. The song slows, and Toya falls to his knees dramatically, pulling the microphone stand to his chest and rolling his body against it. He’s gotten better at dancing, Akito notes. Toya leans forward and towards an older guy at the front of the crowd, face getting too close for Akito’s comfort as he sings low, voice melodic in a way that Akito could only describe as sensual. 

There’s a little moment right as the second song starts up, where the crowd parts a little in front of Akito, and he has a straight shot to just watch Toya, unobstructed. He twists his body, lashes lifting as his eyes drift over the crowd, and then it happens.

Those familiar eyes locked on his own, and for a moment, just a moment, the singing falters, those eyes widen in pure shock, mouth open as no sound comes out. The moment stretches on for eternity in Akito’s eyes, staring up at the broken and messy look that encapsulates the boy of his past. Toya’s clearly grown, though, as he’s back on beat before it’s even noticeable that he’d messed up, but his eyes stay locked on Akito, wide and almost crazed. It’s like they have tunnel vision, locked onto each other as the show continues, ignoring the ever growing cheers of the rest of the crowd. Some punk or goth girl shoves in front of Akito, and he finds himself stumbling off to the side to maintain eye contact, desperate to hold onto it.

Despite all the time apart, Akito’s still able to read Toya like a book, still able to decipher the feelings in his voice and face, and it’s tearing him apart. Toya’s baring himself raw to a crowd of strangers, singing with his soul on display in a way that would’ve been so terrifying when he was just a scared teenager. His father would hate the man he’s become, Akito thinks. 

One of the songs has a steep build up, and Toya takes the moment to hastily unbutton the shirt he wears, tearing it open to reveal orange and red body glitter splattered against his chest and stomach. 

Akito’s stomach swirls with infuriated butterflies, pounding against his insides and trying to escape. It makes him lightheaded, how drawn he is to Toya, how appealing he looks, bathed in neon lights and shimmering colors. Akito finds himself craving to touch, to feel the gritty texture of glitter on skin, to dig his nails into pale flesh and mark and claim Toya again. God, what the fuck was wrong with him?!

Akito throws back the rest of his forgotten drink, the burn grounding him and reminding him to stay in his fucking place. Toya isn’t his to claim, to like, to want and to love. No, Toya’s some freak ass queer singer with some weak ass story of heartbreak in his music, and Akito wants nothing more to do with him, not after this fucking stunt. 

As the final song starts to come to an end, Akito tears his gaze away from the appealing planes of his stomach. He begins pushing his way out of the crowd when Toya begins to speak, music fading and applauding starting to roar around him, shoving arms digging into his sides as he struggles through them all. 

The sounds fade the further he gets, and eventually he’s outside, leaning against the building with a trembling sigh. Fuck, he needs something more to drink, or cigarettes, or something to take off the building edge inside of him. Stupid fucking anxiety making him freak the fuck out. 

Part of him wants to run back in and pull Toya off of that stage and take him home, another part wants to run away as fast as he can and never think about his beautiful body again. Neither part wins, and Akito finds himself just waiting behind the building, resting with his head against the back wall, eyes closed as he breathes.  

People begin to filter out, raving about the show and how wonderful it was, how ‘MYSTYC’ was so cool tonight, how hot and pretty and sexy and handsome and gorgeous and fucking perfect he looks on that stage, bathed in fluorescence. Disgusting. 

Akito feels dizzy. 

It’s all he can do to just rest with his head against the rickety wall, eyes heavy and lidded as he watches the people leave through his peripheral vision. The shows over, everyone’s leaving, so why isn’t he? He should leave now, shouldn’t have ever come in the first place really, but it’s too early to start regretting a night he’s not even finished with. 

The steady stream of people dwindles off into the occasional late-stayer stumbling out of the venue, gleaming with the afterglow of witnessing true music in the making, live in front of them. Akito scoffs at the memory of him hanging off of Toya, claiming that they’ll be the future of music, together, always going to be performing side by side. What a load of shit. 

He scoffs as he pushes himself off the wall, glaring up at the stars smeared in the sky, the moon that mocks him with its fervent glow. Akito thinks the moon almost looks like Toya’s eyes, bright and yet dull. What a weird thing to think. 

The door to the venue is once again pushed open, but instead of some drunken concert-goer finally leaving a show far ended, he’s met with a sight he wasn’t prepared for. Toya, tall and shining with body glitter, stands in front of him, eyes wild with desperation as he finally sees Akito. 

“You came.” Ah, he’s voice sounds so different, deeper, matured with an elegance that he’s always carried within himself. Gross. He’s freakishly tall, Akito notes, tilting his head up to look at Toya’s face, he shouldn’t be wearing those stupid shoes. “Why did you…” Toya’s hand twitches at his side, reaching for Akito before yanking it back, torn between disbelief and longing, anger swirling low in his gut, so confused by his ex-partner’s presence. 

“An,” Akito says with no mind, eyes drifting down to Toya’s exposed chest. Too pretty, too gross. “She told me you’d be performing here, had no idea you still even did shit like this.” Akito gestures to the live house, tearing his eyes away from Toya, despite how much his body screams to stare, to reach out and touch. 

“Yeah,” Toya looks pensive, “I take it you don’t anymore?” He looks hurt by the prospect, which confuses the shit out of Akito. Why the hell would he even care what Akito does with his life? It’s not like they’re anything to each other anymore, so why would Toya care if he dropped his greatest passion in favor of living a worthless but simple life? The bastard cares too goddamn much if he does. 

“Nah,” Akito feels stiff, body rigid with an awkwardness he thought was left behind with his stupid teenage self. “Look, good show, but I really gotta go.” Akito tries to shove past Toya, but those pianist fingers are quick to latch onto his wrist, pulling him back. “Toya, what the hell?!” Akito yanks his hand away, but not without really looking at Toya’s face. Gone is the passive, stoic expression Toya masked with even in his worst moments in high school, replaced with determination and feelings, only amplified by the sticky and smeared glitter on his eyes and lips.

“Akito,” God, the sound of that voice saying his name…It’s more than Akito can take. “Please, don’t just go. Not yet.” Toya reached out again, nails shining with blue polish in the moonlight. Akito stays still, letting his hand curl into the fabric of his sweatshirt, pulling him slightly forward. “Come with me to the green room, backstage. We can talk a little, if you want to…” Toya’s other hand moves forward to gently rest on Akito’s chest, eyes heavy and lidded. 

“...Okay.” Akito finds himself answering, too caught up in the light touching to think about how wrong this was. Toya smiles, small and delicate, familiar. His hands tighten on Akito’s shirt, before letting go and sliding down to his wrists, pulling him back into the venue. Only a few stray workers remained inside, cleaning up the place, but they passed in a blur, Akito too focused on looking at Toya to observe the people left inside. 

“Here,” Toya pushes the door backstage open, allowing Akito to walk in first before shutting it behind him. It’s a messy green room, small and cramped, with only a dingy lit vanity and a fake leather loveseat shoved in the corner, as well as a few storage boxes that presumably had nowhere else to be stored. There’s make strewn about the vanity’s desk, as well as a little message written in lipstick on the mirror, and Akito doesn’t know if Toya wrote it or if it’s been there. “Sit, if you’d like to.” Toya gestures to the little sofa, face passive as he moves a purse off of it. 

“You’re not gonna sit with me?” Akito asks as Toya makes his way to the little vanity, watching those shimmering lips part as his eyes widen. “I mean you invited me in here, thought you’d want to be closer to talk…” Toya obeys, sinking down into the seat beside Akito, sitting ramrod straight with his hands in his lap. 

“I’m surprised you came back here with me.” Toya hums, before adding “I’m surprised you came here at all.” Toya reaches up to tuck a short strand of hair behind his ear, something he used to do a lot when he was embarrassed. Why would he be embarrassed? Akito’s not here for any weird reason, because he’s not…

Toya looks at him with eyes full of hope, and Akito finds it harder and harder to deny. “I’m glad you did, though.” And god, Toya’s voice was so fucking pretty, so perfectly him. Toya rests his hand on Akito’s thigh, smiling softly. “I…I really missed you, Akito.” He’s much closer to Akito’s height while sitting, might even be shorter with the comfortable slouch to his shoulders. Toya’s cute like this, glistening in low-light like a shitty disco ball, looking at Akito with none of the anger and resentment he deserved. 

Ah, has Toya’s face always been that pretty? 

No wonder he succumbed so easily when he was younger, with a face like Toya’s you could probably turn the straightest guy gay. Not that Akito was gay, but, with thoughts like these, he wasn’t exactly straight, was he? Gross, but what was the fucking point in still denying it? It’s not like he can grow to hate himself anymore than he already does, his life fucking sucks, at least when he was younger and spending his time shoving his tongue down Toya’s throat he didn’t want to die. 

Toya made him feel good, that much was undeniable. Watching Toya on that stage made him feel more alive than he has in fucking years, he might as well chase that high instead of wallowing in self pity over the disgust he felt. He lets his hand find Toya’s against his thigh, gingerly intertwining their fingers together. Toya lets out a little gasp, eyelashes fluttering as Akito pulls him closer, closer, and closer. 

Ah, he was right, it is weird kissing someone wearing lipstick. 

Akito presses his lips to Toya’s in a way that can only be described as desperate, clutching his hand as tightly as he could in an attempt to keep himself grounded. Toya flounders for a moment, shocked and probably a little perturbed, but he kisses back after a moment, other hand drifting towards the back of Akito’s neck. The glittery lipstick has an almost gritty texture, Akito could feel it sticking to his own lips as they kissed, but he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. Really, if he already was some fucking queer, might as well go the full nine yards. 

“Sorry, I shouldn't've-” Akito pulls away to try and speak, but Toya pulls him right back into the kiss, tongue slipping out to prod at the crease in Akito’s own lips. Parting his lips, Akito decides apologies can wait a little longer. Akito can’t help the way he grins into the kiss when Toya flinches, the smooth, golden piercing on his tongue rolling against Toya’s in a way he’s been told feels nice. Kissing Toya feels so good, natural in a way that nothing else ever has. God, he’s such a moron for letting Toya go back then. 

His hands snake around Toya’s waist, under the flowing fabric of his still open shirt. Fuck, his skins so smooth, feeling like warm silk underneath his fingertips. He remembers that, how nice Toya’s milky skin felt, how much he liked to touch it, and how much he hated himself for it. Now though, it’s hard to hate when he’s denied himself this for so long. No, it’s much easier to sink into Toya’s warmth as he’s slowly pushed down onto the little loveseat, back hitting the arm rest as Toya settles over him. 

Finally seeming content to pull away, Toya leans his head back, lipsticks completely ruined and smeared, saliva making his lips shiny as he grins down at Akito, pearly whites bared in a way Akito’s never even seen. To see such a bright smile from Toya…Well, one would have to be crazy not to join him. 

“Ah, I thought you weren’t…?” Toya looks a little worried, smile dropping as he slowly sits back, hips resting on Akito’s stomach. Akito scoffs and rolls his eyes, god, he really fucked up a while ago, didn’t he? Maybe now was his chance to repent for all of that. 

“Fuck that,” Akito lets himself hold Toya’s face in his hands, rubbing off some of the fake glitter-tears. “Sorry, I don’t really know what the hell’s up with me, or what the fuck I am.” He sits up a little, letting Toya lean down a little more to be closer to him. “What I do know is that I really fucking missed you, and kissing you just now is the only thing that’s felt right since I last saw you.” Akito presses his lips to the corner of Toya’s mouth, a small amount of glinting residue getting transferred in the act. “If that makes me fucking gay or whatever, I don’t really have it in me to care anymore.” 

Toya laughs at his words, but his laugh’s always been more of a cute little exhale-borderline-snort sort of laugh, so it makes Akito’s heart soar. “Kissing you did feel incredible, yeah.” Toya presses his forehead against Akito’s, grinning widely. “I’ve always been in love with you, Akito…” Toya kisses him again, fingers sifting through the short hairs at the base of Akito’s nape, nails scratching the skin there gently. Akito lets Toya kiss him, more than content with the easy give and take of Toya’s velvet lips against his own. 

“Hey, Toya,” Akito mumbles, pulling away just enough to speak against Toya’s mouth. “C’mon, enough kissing for now. I want to talk to you.” He grabs Toya’s cheeks and shoves him back slightly. “It’s been years. Let me relearn everything there is to know about Toya.” Toya can’t stop smiling, and Akito finds himself feeling proud of his growth in expressing himself. 

“Only if I get to relearn everything about Akito, too.” Toya tries to lean in for another kiss, but suddenly there’s a knock on the door, harsh and punctuated, the message of ‘hurry the fuck up before we kick you out’ getting across with ease. “Ah, we should probably leave first…” Toya winces, moving himself off of Akito’s lap and picking up the purse he moved earlier. 

“Oh uh, yeah, we should.” Akito throws his legs over the side of the seat, pulling himself back to his feet as Toya gathers his makeup back into his bag. Akito watches awkwardly as Toya picks up his things, unaware of if he should be leaving or waiting. 

“We could head back to my place, if you don’t mind a little car ride…” Toya offers once everythings back into his little purse, throwing it over his shoulder. “It’s a little ways away, but I promise it’s nice.” Akito can’t tell if it’s makeup or not, but Toya’s face looks adorably rosey in the brighter light of the vanity. 

“Yeah, that sounds good to me…” Akito’s voice loses any strength as he stares, captivated by the sight of Toya in his entirety, he’s just so fucking gorgeous, Akito’s blown away. “Hey, Toya.” Akito stalks up to him, lips parted in slight shock as he pushes Toya against the dinky vanity, hands groping at his thighs and waist. Toya gives Akito a little closed mouth smile before leaning forward and kissing him again, clearly just as needy as Akito’s feeling. Those gorgeous long arms are thrown around his shoulders once more, and Akito’s hands drift lower, grabbing just below his ass and hoisting Toya up onto the vanity’s desk. 

“Wait, wait…” Toya quickly shoves Akito away from himself, slowly easing his weight off of the shitty vanity, wincing at the low creak it gave. “I don’t think that thing can support my weight, Akito…” Toya huffs, grabbing Akito’s hand and intertwining their fingers, tugging him towards the door. “Come on, we should leave.” Toya’s words are playful, but his face drops when he looks back at Akito.

“Right…” Akito speaks, but his mind is too occupied to acknowledge his own words. No, how could he even think when Toya’s soft hand is holding his own, an act too domestic to be played off as something he’d do for thrills. The shame comes lurching back, his hand completely limp against Toya’s, torn between yanking it away or squeezing it back. Fuck, he can’t do this, he’s supposed to be normal, not…

Toya tenses, and slowly begins retracting his hand.

“Don’t-!”

“I’m sorry-”

Their words overlap as Akito suddenly tightens his grip, Toya stumbling forward with the force that Akito holds onto his hand with. “Don’t let go…” Fuck, his face feels so hot, he’s so humiliated to be clinging to Toya’s hand like this, but the thought of Toya letting go sends icey shards of panic through his chest. “Fuck, sorry, I don’t…” All of his thoughts are coming out half baked, tongue feeling swollen in his mouth as he stumbles over his words.

“I didn’t mean to overstep…” Toya looks hurt, eyes cast down towards the ground in shame, a look that Akito knows he caused. That hurts more than anything, the knowledge that he’s the reason Toya looks so downtrodden, that it’s his fault that his beautiful smile is missing from his face.

“No, no, you didn’t overstep. It’s okay…” Akito closes his eyes, squeezing Toya’s hand and letting out a little huff. “C’mon, Toya. Let’s go to your place, yeah? Then we can talk about how we’ve been!” Akito feigns energy, baring his teeth in an exaggerated grin to try and revitalize the life he drained from Toya moments prior.

Toya just smiles blankly at him, eyebrows furrowed in a way that shows Akito his faked vigor fooled no one. “Yeah…” Fuck, if his face didn’t prove it, Toya’s weak voice sure did. Seeing Toya so hurt, being the one to hurt Toya, it doesn’t sit right… He has to fix it….

Dammit it all to hell!

Akito glowers, squeezing Toya’s hand as tight as possible and flinging the door open, tugging him through the underpaid workers still cleaning. He’s furious, angry enough to kill, and yet it’s all directed at himself. It always has been, all the years he spent thinking of Toya, blaming the other man for his miserable life, he knew it wasn’t really Toya he hated. No, deep down, he despises the man he is, hates how much he hurts people.

How much he’s hurt Toya.

If parading around in front of some people with shittily smeared lipstick across his face and holding Toya’s hand can fix any of that hurt, he’d do it eternally. Just as they reach the exit door, Akito stops, ripping his hand from Toya’s in order to grab the flowing collar of his shirt and pull him down for a kiss, a vile pit of humiliation pooling in his gut, feeling stripped of dignity despite there only being a couple people as witness. 

He pulls away after a moment of just pressing his lips against Toya’s breathing heavily, unaware if it’s because of the kiss or his own panic. Toya stares at him, frozen with shock at the brazen display. He knows it probably doesn’t seem much, that tons of fags were out here tonight, and-

Ah, that’s a bad word, isn’t it? 

Here he is, with glitter and makeup smeared across his face, still thinking of all those people as faggots. He remembers a moment back in high school, when that stupid upperclassman of theirs would always wear that stupid eyeliner, as well as some other makeup like lipstick or eyeshadow. 

He remembers one day, early into his first year, when his friend group had made plans to meet that upperclassman behind the school. He remembers how he showed up, pale yellow eyeshadow glimmering in the setting sun, eyeliner drawn sharply across his features, decorated face framed by loose strands of purple and blue. 

And of course, he remembers how he left. Face bruised and bloodied, eyeliner smeared down his cheeks with tears, left to clean his own wounds as Akito and his ‘friends’ retreated to their own homes. Faggot was a word that had been thrown around like candy around that upperclassman, Akito only stopping once Toya chastised him about it one too many times. 

Toya would have to do more than just chastise him if he knew Akito was a part of the group of bullies that poor upperclassman had been tormented by. 

“Akito?” Right, he’s not behind that stupid school anymore, he’s here, staring up at Toya’s pretty face and clutching his shirt like his life depended on it. “Are you alright..?” Toya tentatively rests one of his soft hands against Akito’s chest, bringing him back to the present. 

“Y-yeah.” Akito swallows, looking around at the workers who are, well, working. “Come on, we should catch a cab before it gets even later.” Akito slowly releases his death grip on Toya’s shirt, gingerly taking the other man’s hand into his own. Toya looks pleasantly surprised, if the way he smiles into his other hand is anything to go off of. “You’re so pretty.” It slips from Akito's mouth without much thought, but it just makes Toya more bashful, cheeks red with more than just blush as he averts his gaze. 

As they walk out of the venue, a frigid gust of wind blows through the night air, making Akito grateful for the thick sweatshirt he wore. Looking over at Toya, he realizes the other man wasn’t as fortunate. He goes beet red after a minute in the cold, bringing his free arm up to cover his chest, hand tucked just beneath his armpit. Akito’s confused for a moment, but then he realizes that it’s pretty damn cold, and Toya’s chest is overtly exposed. 

A thought crosses Akito’s mind, it sends a low wave of shame treading through his gut, but it’s dismissible enough for him to ignore it. “Hey, Toya.” Akito rubs his thumb against Toya’s knuckles for a moment, before gently letting go of his hand, not wanting him to get discouraged or insecure like earlier. He slips off the thick sweater he wore, exposing the pajama shirt he’d been wearing underneath. Ah, that’s embarrassing… But it’s not as embarrassing as Toya’s current predicament, so Akito finds himself swallowing that shame with the rest of it. “Here, it’s too cold to be wearing something like that.”

“Ah…” Toya stares at the offered shirt like it’s alien, before smiling happily, taking it from Akito’s hand. “Thank you very much, Akito.” Toya slips it over his own open shirt, and Akito tries to ignore the way he snuggles into it, or how he brings the collar of it up to his nose. Weirdo. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Akito yawns as they make it to the street, pulling out his phone and beginning a call for a cab. “I’m getting us a ride, can you put the address in?” He offers the phone to Toya, who agrees easily, before wincing slightly at the state of Akito’s phone. 

“You should really get this fixed, Akito…” Toya comments, concerned over the large crack that cuts through the middle of the screen. “You could hurt your finger.” Toya pouts a little as he says it, and Akito finds himself longing to kiss him, right there in the middle of the street. He doesn’t. 

“…yeah.” Akito’s mind is on Toya’s lips instead of what’s coming out of his own, but he doesn’t really care. He takes his phone back, and they just stand together, waiting for the too-expensive-for-Akito’s-paycheck cab to show up at the venue's entrance. Toya hesitantly leans his head onto Akito’s shoulder, grabbing his hand again and squeezing in small intervals, almost like he was trying to send a cryptic message. Akito gave up trying to decipher it after three long squeezes, realizing it really was just meaningless movements. 

The cab rolls up after a few more minutes, and the sight of the nice car makes Akito wince, knowing it’ll be a huge dent in his wallet. Toya deserves it though, so it’ll be worth the extra shifts he’ll need to pick up to cover such a posh expense. He opens one of the back doors but decides to just stand next to it, gesturing for Toya to get in first. He loves the cute, almost shy look of embarrassment Toya gets when he does shit like this, it’s starting to get addicting. 

Toya clambers into the cushy backseat, and Akito walks around to the other side of the vehicle, settling himself in as well. There’s a little divider between the driver and him and Toya, which he's very grateful for, in case the two of them want to get a little more comfortable. 

“So,” Toya begins after buckling himself in, turning to face Akito better. “What have you been up to, if you don’t perform anymore?” Akito winces at the question, more than a little embarrassed at what he knows his answer will sound like. 

“In all honesty, a whole fucking load of nothing.” Akito nervously scratches the back of his neck, thinking about the seemingly endless hours of working and eating and sleeping and drinking, no respite from his horribly predictable routine, making him more miserable with each passing whisper of Toya in his mind. “I just work and drink, really.” 

Toya suddenly looks worried, eyes wide as he blurts out “Are you drunk right now?” It’s almost funny how panicked Toya got at the prospect, but Akito has never derived pleasure from laughing at Toya. 

“Nah, don’t worry. I had like, maybe half a cup of beer at your little show tonight, nothin’ else today.” Akito reassures him, shrugging nonchalantly as Toya takes in his appearance. 

“…Alright, I believe you.” Toya nods to himself, seemingly satisfied in the discoveries his observations yielded. “Why’d you stop performing, though? I’ve never seen anyone as happy as you were when you were on stage…” Toya asks, as if he was oblivious to the real reason Akito had always been so happy up there. He probably was, the oblivious idiot. 

“Cause.” Akito tries, but it’s clear Toya wants a real answer, not some nothing answer that Akito can get away with. “It just wasn’t the same without you.” The vulnerability that comes with the statement is something Akito despises, but it’s worth the realization that crosses Toya’s face. 

“I know what you mean,” Toya looks down at himself, at his glitter covered hands and obnoxious platform shoes, and at Akito’s sweatshirt, warm and all encompassing, the contrast, the way he feels about each piece, the emotions sewn into industrially produced fabric. “The only reason I perform now is because of Tsukasa-nii.” The name shocks Akito, and yet also doesn’t. 

“Tsukasa-san?” He almost says senpai, but they’re long out of high school, and he never really saw the guy as a superior. Toya hums, nodding his head. 

“Yes, after, ah…” Toya looks over at Akito nervously, picking and choosing his exact words with the utmost caution. “After our separation,” The words tacky and borderline inaccurate, but it’s the only word Toya probably felt he could use. “I was very depressed, and spent a lot of my time just feeling sorry for myself. Tsukasa-nii helped me come into myself more, and take performing back up as a solo artist. Without him, I wouldn’t be nearly as okay as I am now, so I’m very grateful.” Toya has a soft look on his face, hand over his heart as he thinks about his older brother. It makes Akito wonder about…

“What about your dad? Did you two ever, yknow, reconcile and shit?” Akito asks, curious.

Toya’s face had never fallen so fast.

“Ah,” The noise comes out weak and delayed, Toya’s eyes distant and foggy as he thinks. “My, uh,” He stutters, struggling to stay present. “Harumichi,” He settles on, sending a disturbed shiver down Akito’s spine. Despite how much they fought when they were high schoolers, he’s never heard Toya call him anything other than his dad. “Harumichi was not happy when he found out I was gay. He, ah,” Toya swallows, hand twitching against his thigh as he fights against his own memories. “He gave me an ultimatum, of sorts. He said if I repented for everything and just went back to being the ‘good boy’ he raised, then he would forget all of our disputes and let us start anew. And if I didn’t…” Toya stops, gulping down a shaking breath of air, shoulders tight with anxiety. 

“Toya?” Akito reached out to hold both his hands after a few moments too long in silence, leaning forward till Toya’s eyes met his own. “That bad, huh?” He asked, wincing at the small tears that were building in the corners of Toya’s eyes. 

“He kicked me out, but not before destroying a large majority of my things. My computer, my phone, even that wretched piano that sat in my room for so long. I wouldn’t have cared so much if that was it, but he…” Toya choked out a sob, and Akito found himself aching to hold him. “He tore up all of my photos I’d been keeping. The ones Azusawa-san would take, with the four of us smiling and having fun. My precious memories of Akito…” Toya pulled one of his hands away from Akito’s hold to cover his face, shoulders trembling with barely stifled sobs. “I hate him.” He spat, a phrase Akito had never heard from him before. Toya had never hated his father, for him to get to that point, he had to have been so hurt. 

“Oh, Toya…” Akito wrapped his arms around Toya’s back, pulling him down to rest his head on Akito’s shoulder. Embracing Toya was familiar and foreign, it made Akito’s heart skip and body warm, a sense of comfort settling around them in the leather seats of a stranger's car. “Fuck that guy, he never supported your fucking dreams and never gave a damn about you and your needs.” Akito pulled back, hands squishing Toya’s round, tear covered cheeks. “I love you, Toya.” He says it like it’s nothing, but they both know it’s more than that. 

Akito loving Toya is hating himself for wanting to touch and be touched, it’s pushing and pulling him around when they kissed as dumb teenagers, it’s shoving him away when he can’t handle the truth of his feelings. His love for Toya manifested in sleepless nights worrying about him and where he was now, in empty bottles overflowing from his trash can, in showing up to a concert he swore he wouldn’t attend just to chase their flame. No, Akito loving Toya wasn’t nothing, it was everything. Every breath, every step, every song, dance, move, concert, and venue was him loving Toya.

“I love you too.” 

Four words, words Akito has heard before, from his sister or his mother, and yet they shatter the ground with their weight now. No, all those times before don’t even hold a candle to the way Toya says it to him now. In that weak, tearful voice, Akito is found, found inside of Toya’s love. It’s patience, it’s understanding, it’s compassion and empathy and all the things Akito’s horrible at, and yet he’s drowning in it, left to sink to the bottom of Toya’s overflowing affection, a fate so sweet Akito knew he was the last person to ever deserve it. 

But that’s why it’s so special. Toya’s love is his and his alone, and god dammit if Akito isn’t one selfish man. 

“Again,” The request comes out breathless, and a little nonsensical considering Toya’s confused look. “Say it again, Toya.” He lets his hands drift down Toya’s face and onto his shoulders, staring into his eyes and letting himself fall deeper into the abyss that is Toya. 

“I love you too?” Toya says it again, his voice raising a little as his words tapered off, uncertain as to why Akito needs to hear him repeating himself. But it’s worth it for the little smile Akito gives, his lips pulling back to reveal those sharp teeth Toya’s oh so familiar with. 

Akito starts to lean closer for the nth kiss that night, but the car suddenly lurches to a stop, the divider slamming open and revealing the face of a very unhappy driver. She spits out the total of the ride, and Akito can’t help the grimace that crosses his face at it. He doubts he even has that much cash on him right now…

“Ah, here you go.” Toya acts faster than Akito can think, money already in the driver's hand from his wallet. “Thank you for the ride.” He gives a curt little bow before opening his car door and getting out, leaving Akito in his stupor. The driver gives him a nasty glare, and it’s plenty enough to send Akito scrambling to open the door, looking up at where they’ve arrived. He’s almost surprised to see an apartment complex instead of a house, but it does make a little sense. It seems like he’s only just come back to this area, so not being fully settled yet isn’t too shocking. 

The driver speeds off in her car, leaving Toya and Akito standing in front of the building together, looking up at its staggering height. “You still scared of heights?” It comes out of Akito’s mouth faster than he can stop it, but the little side glance Toya gives the ground is really cute. 

“…We live on the first floor.” The response forces a bark of a laugh out of Akito, which just makes Toya’s face flush a little pink, cute and pretty and gorgeous, just like everything he remembers. Not gross, not disgusting, the farthest thing from the vile shame that used to consume Akito’s every thought. No, now it’s just Toya, and everything that comes with him. Just him, Toya, and-

“We?” Akito stops, raising an eyebrow at Toya. He didn’t realize he’d have a roommate, Toya’s not really the social type, for him to share a living space with someone…

Well, they’d have to be awfully close.

“Ah, I didn’t mention it earlier?” Toya looks a little nervous bringing it up, pushing open the door to the complex and walking towards what Akito could only assume was his door. “Me and Tsukasa-nii live together now.” 

What. 

“He offered to move out and take me with him back when he graduated high school…” Toya laments, sliding his house key into the door lock before letting it drop back into his puse. “I took the offer graciously, and it’s really been helping me.” Toya turns around to give Akito a smile, unaware of the inner turmoil going on inside of Akito’s mind. 

“Right…” Akito could tell Tsukasa’s influence spread far by just stepping into their apartment, every wall and surface adorned with some sort of star memorabilia or familial heirloom. At least ten different pairs of shoes are lined up against the wall by the front door, and Akito’s pretty sure only one is small enough to be Toya’s. Toya’s always had really small feet, even since high school, it’s just one of those things about him that compels Akito. “Is he, you know, here?” Akito keeps his voice low in case he is, not wanting to encounter that guy yet. 

Toya gives a light chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no, Tsukasa-nii is spending the night at his boyfriend’s house.” Toya tenses after the words leave his lips, looking at Akito with a pensive frown on his face. It sends guilt crashing against his gut, he knows why Toya’s looking at him like that, and he knows it’s warranted, because it does gross him out. The thought of Tsukasa having a boyfriend isn’t surprising, in fact, it’s something he gossiped about back when they were dumb kids, laughing at his senior whenever he would walk past. 

“Sorry, I didn’t…” Toya looks away, hanging his purse up on a hook by the front door. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.” Toya’s pulling away again, going back into his shell out of fear. The worst part is that it’s fair, because Akito’s horrible at this, he’s not used to this type of shit, he’s horrible at accepting things he’s not used to. But, knowing it makes Toya feel like that… 

Well, maybe it’d be nice to learn a little. 

“Nah, it’s alright.” Akito waves his hand, as if physically dismissing the nasty thoughts he has. “He’s got a boyfriend?” Akito asks, hoping the question doesn’t sound as grossed out as it felt coming out. Toya does retract any further, so he thinks he did a pretty good job. 

“Ah, yes, he does.” Toya tentatively continues, slipping off one of his boots and setting it by the rest next to the door. “You might remember him, he went to school with us.” Toya lets his implications speak for themselves, sliding off his other shoe and putting it with the other one. No, he can’t mean…

“Kamishiro?” Akito scowls around the name, almost hoping he was wrong. But no, Toya just nods, not seeing anything wrong with that pair. And there probably isn’t anything wrong with them, there’s just something wrong with Akito. It hits him, right there, standing in the middle of the entrance to Toya’s apartment, that he’s always been the problem. 

Back when he would whisper behind Tsukasa’s back and spread rumors about him being a weirdo in the locker rooms, or when he watched as his so-called ‘friends’ beat Kamishiro to a pulp behind the school, and especially when he reaffirmed all of Toya’s anxieties in their relationship, confirming that what they were doing was wrong. Akito’s never been in the right, not when it comes to this, so maybe he should just shut his fucking mouth and listen. 

“I didn’t know Tenma-san was, uh, gay…” Akito cringes at his own words, feeling like he was being an asshole without even trying. But Toya smiles at him, reassurance in his eyes, taking Akito’s hand once his shoes are off and leading him further into the apartment. They pass through a hall with tons of photos on the walls, the majority of them being of their family throughout the years. Toya’s only in a few of the more recent ones, only from high school and later. But one of the pictures isn’t a family picture, no, it’s a photo of Tsukasa and a group of people that are probably his friends. 

It’s clearly recent, considering just how different he looks, much stalkier, with thick muscle curving around his body and making him look sturdy. It’s a far cry from the guy he once was able to carry on his back, and it makes Akito feel a little guilty for missing his normal gym visits these past few weeks… There’s two girls in the photo as well, one he vaguely recognizes as an ex-classmate of his, with flowing grey-green hair and purple eyes crinkled up with a grin. The other is someone he doesn’t know if he’s ever met, some short and chubby girl with bubblegum hair and a smile bright enough to rival the sun. The part of the photo that really catches his attention is Kamishiro, though. He sat beside Tsukasa, whose arm is wrapped around his waist, pulling him against his chest, close enough to press his lips to his cheek. Kamishiro’s smiling, cheeks red and rosy, stabbing guilt through Akito’s already bleeding heart. 

That’s the guy he tormented for so long, just cause Akito was so quick to label him a freak. Fuck, he’s such an asshole. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t.” Toya speaks up, reminding Akito that oh right, he’s in the middle of a conversation right now. “He’s never been one to hide it,” Toya pushes open one of the doors in the hallway. “I think that’s part of the reason I’m so okay with it.” He pulls Akito into his bedroom, and it’s like a memory smacking him in the face. 

His bedroom is so similar to the one he had when they were younger, down to the duvet on his bed and a similar style of desk. There’s no sheet-covered piano in the corner though, so it’s an improvement. 

“He’s a good influence on you.” Akito comments, allowing himself to get pulled to Toya’s mattress. “I’m glad you have someone like that.” But his words contradict his tone, too bitter to really be happy for Toya. To think he could’ve been there for Toya, instead of that obnoxious bastard makes him so fucking mad. He’s always been possessive of Toya, always needed to know that Toya was his irrevocably, even if he’d push him away when he got too close. He’s living a life of contradictions, and has been for so long. 

“I wish you did, too.” Toya speaks up after a moment, sitting down on his mattress and looking up at Akito through thick, mascara covered lashes. “Akito deserved better…” Toya looks so sad, so distraught at the idea that Akito didn’t have a good influence like he did. “I think it would’ve made things turn out different, if you had someone like Tsukasa-nii.” 

“I had Ena.” The defense comes out quick, he doesn’t like the road this conversation is going down, he doesn’t like talking about himself. “She was there.” He speaks, but Toya’s looking at him like he knows something. Toya runs his fingers over Akito’s, twisting the thick, metal rings as he stares at him. 

“Was she?” Perceptive, Toya’s always been so damn perceptive-! “Back then, when you pushed me away. Was Ena-san there for you?” Toya lets their fingers slide together, coaxing Akito out of the prison he built around himself. He wants to deny it, wants to boast about how good of a sister Ena is, how she brings him food at least once a week, helps him clean up his shitty apartment, he wants to say it. 

But he can’t. 

Because they’re not talking about Ena today, they’re talking about Ena when she was a teenager. When she rotted away in her bedroom, fighting and fighting to improve her work, solely focused on herself, only ever talking to Akito if it’s to yell or ask him to pick her up some cheesecake or something. There was no vulnerability, there was no older sister who he could turn to when his feelings became too much, there was just another person to butt heads with, to lash out on.

Akito takes in a shuddering breath, turning away from Toya’s piercing gaze. It's safer, back turned to shield his face, he can’t face something like this, can’t accept that maybe he’s not okay, maybe he’s breaking, cracking under the pressure that built up inside of him. It’s too much for him, this care, the way Toya looks at him with so much love-!

“I wish Akito had someone,” Toya reiterates, thin arms curling around Akito’s waist, chest firm against his back. “So that Akito would know it’s okay to be upset right now.” Toya’s taking the lead from him, stripping him of his power and pressing kiss after kiss to the exposed skin of his neck. “Akito can cry, and it’ll be okay.” Toya rubs his hands over Akito’s stomach, tracing the definition of his muscles with his fingers, voice low and soft against his ear. “Akito can love me, and I’ll love him back.” 

The words take a moment to settle, but the damage is done the moment they do, Akito lurching forward with a crackling sob. He clamps his hand over his mouth the second it breaches his lips, eyes wide and unblinking to prevent tears from falling. He’s not weak, he’s not going to cry, he has no reason to cry. He’s experienced worse, has spent night after night regretting his life, debating its worth. He’s drowned himself in enough liquor to kill a horse and he’d do it again, he’s made friends and lost friends, he’s gone through plenty to not cry right now. 

“Akito, you’re so lovely.” His voice rumbles low against Akito’s skin, he can feel the final bits of that stupid lipstick getting smeared onto his flesh, but he just doesn’t, can’t, care. How could he, when every part of him is fighting each other, screaming with urges to lean closer, pull away, to hurt and to hold, to cry and scream and feel. 

“T-Toya.” Akito gasps, grabbing one of Toya’s hands off his stomach and squeezing. He needs, needs so strongly that he can’t breathe, and yet air still gets to his lungs. Toya continues to kiss his neck, gently moving his lips across the plane of tanned skin. His hand not held by Akito’s skims below the fabric of his shirt, lightly tracing his manicured nails over the warm skin beneath it. 

They stay like that for a while, Akito struggling to get himself under control while Toya litters soft kisses against his neck and jaw, dragging his hand across Akito’s stomach. It’s warm, and yet Akito finds himself craving more than just the hands he has, he wants to feel Toya’s bare skin pressed against his own, and wants to relish in a new feeling. 

Toya must be in his head, because he pulls away from their embrace, lips making a quiet chu sound as they separate from Akito’s nape, hands slithering away from their hold. “Akito,” Toya’s voice is still so gorgeous, “Turn around.” 

Akito obeys, as if he’s some robot made to follow Toya’s commands, slowly lugging his body back to face Toya, tears long gone from his eyes. Toya reaches out his hands, sliding underneath the hem of Akito’s t-shirt and rolling it up and over his head. “Beautiful,” Toya hums, cool hands now exploring the warm expanse of Akito’s chest.   “Akito is very handsome.” Toya lets his head fall against one of Akito’s shoulders, kissing down his clavicle and over his pecs, gently massaging his waist. 

“Hey, no fair.” Akito grumbles, taking his sweatshirt off of Toya with a lot less grace. He yanks that flowy button up off too, leaving Toya’s chest completely unobstructed, pale skin stretching on for what seem to be miles across his gorgeous body. “And you say I’m beautiful.” It’s a weak attempt to garner some control back, but it earns Akito an amused smile. 

“You flatter me.” Toya kisses him again, gently tugging him to lay down flat on the mattress. Toya’s lips are velvet soft without so much of that glittery shit on them, and every kiss has enough sweetness to satisfy Akito’s ever prevalent sweet tooth. He pulls away, and for a moment they just stare, taking in the reality that they’re finally back together, that this is real, that they really get to be like this again.

It’s nice. 

“I love you.” They say it at the same time, blinking once, twice, before bursting out into soft laughter, Akito leaning forward to press their foreheads together. Soft love fills the once stuffy air of Toya’s bedroom, reverberating throughout the walls and encompassing the both of them whole. 

“We should rest.” Toya says with a yawn, snuggling his face into the warm crevice of Akito’s neck. Akito wraps his arms around Toya’s waist, pulling him close and basking in the warmth of their skin pressed together. 

“We’ll talk more in the morning?” Akito asks, hoping the desperation he feels isn’t obvious. He can feel Toya’s lips pull back into a smile against his collar bone, and he knows that it totally was. 

“Of course we will, Akito.” Hands twist into the thin strands of hair at his nape, making his eyes slip shut. Toya lets out a noise that can only be described as a purr, pressing his body even closer to Akito’s as exhaustion nabs at his very bones. “Goodnight, partner.” Relief like no other floods Akito’s system at the use of the pet name, almost wanting to cry a little. Instead, Akito laughs breathlessly, kissing Toya’s scalp as his eyes water behind his eyelids. 

“Sleep well, partner.” Akito repeats, mumbling against his head, hoping the message makes it directly to his brain. They fall asleep like that, tangled in the others embrace, ready to face the world together once again.