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A few months ago, if a classmate had asked Akito what his weekend plans were, his answer would've been simple, predictable to anyone who knew him: homework, exercise, and practice with his team. On good weekends, they had live shows.
His routine hadn't changed much, save the fact that he'd picked up his job again to pad his savings. Akito still crammed homework and left a lot to be desired with his studying, and he still ran every day, and he still practiced with his team – his friends – as often as he could.
Except for the biggest change: his Saturdays had morphed from his “get up and beat the morning into submission” day into... this.
As if hearing the thought, Toya mumbled sleepily and burrowed closer. Akito's heart fluttered, try as he might to stop it. His heart didn't flutter.
It did, though, when it came to his partner. Toya was his exception in so many ways, and really, Akito had never had a chance of not caving to his boyfriend's shy requests.
Sure, Akito could sleep in on Saturdays. Sure, he and Toya could study together in a nearby café or the quiet of Akito's room so Toya could be out of his house more. Sure, they could reschedule practices because Toya really enjoyed cuddling. (An had pushed back against that last item, but Akito was well-versed in the art of waiting An Shiraishi out and letting her impatience do the work for him.)
Boyfriend. Akito still couldn't believe he could say that. He didn't say it much, of course. Akito was the first to call himself the private type about things that really mattered, and the rest of the world didn't deserve to know how he felt for his partner. But he said it to himself. Every day, every time he brushed his fingers against Toya's. His boyfriend.
A few months ago, if someone had asked who Toya was to him, Akito would've burst out in a proud grin he'd never been able to stifle and introduced his best friend exactly as he was: Toya Aoyagi, Akito's partner, the other member of BAD DOGS and part of Vivid BAD SQUAD with him.
In Kamiyama, Akito had never had to introduce Toya to anyone. Everyone already knew them as a set. Thank god, because even if their classmates had questions – suspicions, more like – him and Toya being best friends kept most of those invasive comments at bay.
Sure, they were always together.
Sure, Akito would ditch any conversation if Toya called him away.
Sure, Akito dodged everyone's hands but never flinched when Toya gently took his arm.
It'd been easier for him, too. He'd stuffed his feelings down and hidden behind all those assumptions, all those unspoken questions. He would never be rejected if he never confessed. He couldn't fuck up his relationship with Toya if he never admitted the romantic slant of his affection.
Then had come a whirlwind weekend that Akito still hadn't managed to sort through. There'd been that show, and he'd gotten overzealous and hugged Toya longer than he should've once they were backstage. They'd canceled practice since Kohane had come down with a day cold, but Toya had asked him out to the park, and of course, Akito had gone along.
Those were all straightforward. Those were all normal events. Then Toya had delivered his halting speech, and Akito had listened with his mouth hanging open and his heart in his throat. The next thing he remembered was Kohane's quiet yet beaming congratulations and the raucous laughter of one An Shiraishi, who'd cheered like she'd won money. For a few hours afterward, Akito had been convinced he'd dreamt the whole thing up.
The next morning, Toya had shot him a pink-tinged smile, and that'd been that. Akito's routine had suffered, but he couldn't have cared less, because whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Toya in the park, backlit by moonlight and so beautiful it hurt, his cheeks ablaze as he fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater.
“You're my partner, Akito. I always want to be with you.”
It was nothing he hadn't said before, but it'd hit Akito like a sledgehammer. Then Toya had cupped his face with trembling hands and leaned in.
Toya stirred again, and Akito blinked himself out of his meandering thoughts. He hadn't bothered to check his phone when he'd woken up, and he wasn't planning to any time soon. They'd pushed practice into the afternoon thanks to An and Kohane's aquarium date, and Akito would make the most of that.
He'd never thought of his bedroom as anything special, but he was starting to appreciate it as their little sanctuary. Early morning light filtered through his curtains, casting a blue tinge across his bed before spilling onto the floor. Autumn had finally settled in, whisking away the humidity, so the pocket of warmth beneath Akito's comforter was bliss.
Most importantly, Toya cuddled against him, his head nestled beneath Akito's chin. He, too, was tinged blue, highlights dancing in his hair. Akito couldn't help but lift his left hand – carefully, since Toya was using that arm as a pillow – and run his fingers through the lighter half of Toya's hair. So unbearably silky.
“It's cold,” Toya mumbled. Silver eyes fluttered open and drifted to the window. “What time is it?”
“Dunno,” Akito sighed, following the split down Toya's hair.
That answer apparently satisfied his partner because he stretched, lean muscles bunching against Akito's side, then slung an arm around his waist and huddled even closer. Akito sucked in a sharper breath and held it. He hoped so badly that he'd never get used to how exhilarating it felt to have Toya so close – to feel a steady heartbeat and hear slow, even breaths.
“What are you doin'?” Akito murmured.
“You're warm.”
“I can't be that nice to hold onto.”
“You are.”
Sleepy Toya was a different breed of obstinate, and he usually blushed if Akito brought it up later. Akito grinned and kissed his partner's temple. He received a pleased hum for his trouble, and the sound seeped through his chest, infusing every corner of him with warmth.
A few months ago, Akito never would've dared to hope that he'd know the press of Toya's lips or the feeling of his partner's hand in his. But he did. And all that'd changed were the nights Toya spent at his house and kisses traded in the park, when it was only An and Kohane to see them and snicker behind their backs. He'd sooner move countries than say it to their faces, but their support meant so much.
“Want breakfast?” Akito offered. The one habit he hadn't kicked was his appetite, and his stomach was more resilient than his heart to Toya's noise of protest.
“I'm not hungry yet.”
Akito snorted. “I gotta eat. I'll bring somethin' back for you.”
“Akito,” Toya mumbled, and his voice slid just close enough to a whine that Akito inhaled slowly and fortified his resolve. He'd get a headache if he left breakfast too long, and he would be right back. So sue him; he'd taken a liking to pampering Toya however he could. All those months of longing and wishing had given him plenty of fantasies, and he was damn well going to fulfill as many as he could.
That didn't make detaching Toya's hold and crawling over his partner any easier. Toya mumbled again, then curled up in the dip their bodies had made.
Akito swallowed thickly, breathing through his nose until the wave of adoration passed. He'd always been gone on his partner, ever since he'd heard a stranger's voice drift down an alleyway like a call from the divine. But god, he was the luckiest bastard in Tokyo. Toya had gazed out at the world and turned his back, because he'd decided Akito was worth his time, his affection. How had he convinced the most beautiful boy he'd ever met to love him back?
Geez. Toya made him such a sap.
Akito shook himself and padded into the hallway. His parents were away on a business trip, and Ena would probably be fast asleep until noon, so Akito was less careful than usual about making noise. After splashing his face and brushing his teeth, he poked around his fridge. Leftovers from yesterday's dinner, since the four of them had gone out, rice, vegetables... Akito wasn't in the mood for anything big.
He settled on reheating soup he'd made a few days ago, planning ahead for lazy mornings just like these. Footsteps echoed from the second floor while he stirred the broth, and judging by the fact that no doors were slammed, he assumed it was Toya. Well, good. His partner needed to be up to eat.
Akito filled the deepest bowls they had and started back upstairs. His bedroom door was cracked, so he nudged it open and found Toya sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
“Food,” he announced. Toya glanced up and broke into a beaming smile, and Akito chuckled. “Thought you said you weren't hungry.”
Toya blushed. “Yet,” he protested. “It smells delicious. Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get up here.”
Akito set the bowls on his desk, and Toya immediately rose, all long-limbed grace. Akito admired his partner just a little before pulling both chairs in. One was his. The other had been an investment when Toya had started coming over most nights and needed better than the floor or a stool.
They huddled over the meal, knees pressed together, elbows bumping. Toya had left his phone elsewhere, so Akito pulled out his own and absently checked for new comments on Vivid BAD SQUAD's latest performance. To his surprise, a promotion from a variety website had boosted their popularity.
“'New revolutionaries'?” Toya echoed slowly.
“What?” Akito asked, amused. “You don't like it?”
“I don't see how we're revolutionaries. Isn't being performers enough?”
“We're following in the steps of legends. Of course they're gonna dramatize us.”
Toya said nothing, his brow still furrowed, so Akito just pressed a kiss to his partner's hair and went back to his soup. Toya nuzzled into his shoulder in return – it seemed like he'd lost interest in anything not related to food or cuddling, and frankly, Akito was inclined to agree.
He'd had the thought to take the bowls downstairs once they were done, mostly to make sure he didn't forget, but Toya stood, stretched, and tumbled back into bed, and that more or less took the choice out of Akito's hands. He did stack the bowls, but he then abandoned his phone on his desk and followed Toya down, careful to land on his elbows and knees.
Oh, he never thought he'd be able to do this – squish Toya into the comforter, lean close and kiss his partner's shoulder. He never thought he'd hear Toya's soft, happy noises and feel arms slung across his back. Toya had never particularly been the touchy type, but maybe Akito hadn't pressed hard enough. Maybe his partner had always been too much like him, wanting and staving off those impulses.
“You're so warm,” Toya murmured, and Akito huffed a laugh.
“What'd you expect? You were holdin' onto me all night.”
“It feels good.”
Akito didn't ask whether Toya meant the warmth or their new tradition – for as different as they were, they agreed on the most important things in their lives. They always had. Everything about their mornings felt good. Akito skimmed his hands up Toya's sides, and this, he thought, was as close to heaven as he'd ever get.
Toya shivered suddenly, and Akito realized he'd slipped beneath Toya's shirt without meaning to, trailing his fingers up the barely-there indents of ribs. “Oh, sorry. Cold?”
“N-no.”
Gut punch. Akito couldn't think of a better way to describe it. If ever there came a day that he'd get used to seeing Toya flush and hearing the waver in his best friend's voice, it wasn't today. Akito closed his eyes, just to wait out the buzzing in his ears, and leaned in.
Their first kiss had been tinged with disbelief. Even after Toya had pulled back and given Akito time to process that, holy shit, his partner had just declared his love and followed through on it, Akito had been too rattled to attempt another. All the better, really, because Toya had looked like he might pass out if someone breathed on him too hard.
Now, Toya carded his fingers through Akito's hair like he'd been doing it for years. Akito cracked a faint smile. Incredible, really, how he'd poured out every bit of his adoration and had it received so readily. Incredible, really, how Akito could tip Toya's head back and receive a quiet exhale in the space between them.
“Akito,” Toya hummed, nothing more than another noise of contentment, and something electric crackled across Akito's skin.
“Love you,” he mumbled. Toya beamed, his eyes alight, and Akito groaned. Fucking adorable. “Stop doin' that to me.”
“Sorry.”
No hint of remorse, and they both knew it. Akito still couldn't quite shake the embarrassment, so he went back to kissing Toya's neck, brushing his lips over warm skin. His partner was languid beneath him, all soft edges and toned muscle. It was a good thing they'd planned to practice after An and Kohane's date, because if it'd been up to Akito, he'd have happily stayed in bed all day.
He'd feared, once upon a time, that confessing to Toya would slow everyone down. That reality had come to pass, and Akito just didn't care. He'd kept his hands to himself for so long, swallowed everything he'd felt for his partner until he'd choked on it. Maybe he'd get back into the swing of his old routine eventually. Maybe Toya would wake up and request that they start practice at the usual time, for whatever reason.
But not today. Not with sunshine still enveloping his bed, and not with the slight shudder in Toya's breaths.
God, what Toya did to him. Vivid BAD SQUAD's dream remained as strong as ever, but here and now, one of Toya's hands in his hair and the other clutching his shoulder, Akito was willing for the journey to take a little longer. He'd exchange what had once been a few hours of devoted practice for this kind of devotion instead.
“What time is it?” Toya asked suddenly, and Akito blinked, startled back into some semblance of coherence. Toya's eyes were still hazy, and lord, if that didn't send Akito spiraling all over again, but his best friend looked around a little more insistently, so Akito sat up. “The- the manager at TWOSTEP was supposed to call me.”
It took Akito's brain a second to provide pertinent information, but it got there eventually – TWOSTEP, the venue hosting a liveshow in a couple weeks, where they'd recently submitted an interest application. “Oh, shit,” Akito realized, and he promptly hopped up, tossing back the comforter while Toya patted the sheets.
Akito finally uncovered Toya's phone, and he just had time to see a flash of 10:02 before TWOSTEP's number overtook the screen. Akito blew out a breath and slapped the phone into his partner's waiting hand.
For reasons he no longer remembered, Toya had become something of their de facto agent. He'd grown to be more measured than An, more adamant than Kohane, and definitely more patient than Akito. So, while Toya negotiated the details and pressed for information, Akito gently pushed Toya back to the bed and lay on top of him. Toya didn't even falter, though his cheeks slowly dusted pink. Akito was thoroughly impressed.
“Thank you very much,” Toya said, and ended the call. He made a motion like he was going to toss his phone, and Akito hurriedly stopped him. He'd rather not be disturbed again. Understanding flickered across Toya's face, and he rolled over, depositing his phone on the floor. “We have a slot.”
Akito shifted so he could remain on top of Toya without crushing him or giving himself a cramp. “Great.”
“We're going last, actually. It seems like they trust us to close out the show.”
“Mm. Shiraishi'll be happy to hear that.”
“Are you listening?”
Fondness wound through Toya's voice, so Akito glanced up and offered a lazy smile. “Yeah, enough,” he promised. Toya's flush darkened to a deep red. “Let's tell 'em later,” Akito murmured. “We don't hafta to be up for another hour.”
Toya's eyes crinkled. “Right.”
They did not get up in 'another hour.' They let the next call Toya received go to voicemail, and Akito didn't feel that bad about it. If the manager at TWOSTEP couldn't handle waiting half an hour for a call back, he'd be hell to work with in person, and it was better to know that now.
Akito also didn't feel bad about trapping Toya all over again when his partner tried to get up. Toya shot him a look somewhere between amusement and confusion, and Akito just lifted a shoulder before kissing Toya back to the pillow. It took about two seconds before Toya went boneless beneath him, and Akito grinned.
“You don't get to be responsible today,” he chuckled, pressing their foreheads together.
“Alright,” Toya breathed, his eyes as bright as ever, and the last remnant of Akito's restraint kind of tripped off a cliff. He couldn't be blamed for leaving Toya's lips kiss-swollen and his breaths ragged. His partner was fucking beautiful, and Akito was damn well going to appreciate it. Making up for lost time and all that.
Never mind the fact that Toya's hands drifted to his hips, and the reverence in his grasp made Akito feel more than a little punch-drunk.
Kohane eventually called to say that she and An were stopping to get lunch, but they'd be at the park soon. Akito only let Toya up because he recognized Kohane's unique ringtone, and he groaned at the news.
“We had the whole morning to ourselves,” Toya pointed out, ever the mediator, and Akito sighed.
“You shoulda told her to take An home herself.”
Toya wrinkled his nose. “Akito.”
“Fine, fine. They'll figure it out by themselves.”
It wasn't the first time they'd had the debate, and Akito imagined it'd continue until Kohane finally worked up the courage to confess outright or An looked past her insecurities long enough to realize that Kohane was just as smitten with her. And, sure, Akito was a hypocrite. Toya had kissed him, so he'd gotten lucky. But Akito would've already pushed the girls together if he didn't respect them as much as he did.
As it was, he reluctantly changed, dressed Toya up – because he had to show off his boyfriend a little – and filled their water bottles while Toya tidied Akito's room. They'd never explicitly agreed that Toya was coming back after practice, but if this week remained true to form, Akito had him until school on Monday, even if the “having” included homework and more singing.
“Check the fridge,” Akito ordered when Toya came downstairs, and his partner tipped his head curiously. “See if you're fine with what I've got for dinner.”
“Oh, sure.”
They left the house with just enough time to snag pastries. It was no substitute for a proper lunch, but Akito had found his standards slipping when his options were “cook for himself and eat healthier” or “make out with Toya for a little longer.” The dangers of being head over heels for his boyfriend, he supposed.
As expected, An and Kohane were thoroughly delighted by the news from TWOSTEP and seemed determined to kick their practice up a notch to make up for their respective slow mornings. Akito was fairly convinced that Kohane was wearing An's favorite overshirt, but he didn't point it out. God knew Kohane had covered for him a few times before he'd learned his feelings were reciprocated.
“Isn't that Shiraishi's shirt?” Toya noted when they took a break, and An had wandered off to her bag. Akito snorted a laugh, and Kohane instantly turned redder than her sneakers.
“Y-yes, but–! I spilled my drink at the aquarium, and I didn't have anything else to wear in case it was cold, s-so An-chan let me borrow this, and–”
Kohane trailed off as it seemed to hit her that she was, in fact, wearing An's shirt. Akito rolled his eyes with a warmth he'd never thought he'd feel for a friend and ruffled the girl's hair. She only squeaked.
An's gaze dipped to the shirt for just a moment when she returned, and she stumbled over the start of her sentence. Akito made a mental note to ask Meiko how to play matchmaker, as a favor to An. He suspected the only reason she hadn't been insufferable about him and his feelings had been her own crises.
By sunset, they'd decided on the setlist for the TWOSTEP show, agreed to meet at Weekend Garage at a reasonable time, and split up for the evening. Akito cooked, Toya ran the dishwasher, and despite their day of lounging around, Akito got drowsy by 10 P.M.
A few months ago, he would've texted Toya goodnight and promised to get to Weekend Garage early to discuss some little modifications to their harmonies.
Now, Toya shuffled over to the bed with his eyelids already drooping and collapsed atop Akito, tucking tightly against his side, tangling their legs. Akito tabled his suggestions with a sigh – sure, it could wait – and kissed Toya's hair.
“Night,” he murmured.
“Goodnight.”
Toya's voice was already thick with sleep, and within seconds, his breathing had evened out. Akito traced the moonlight illuminating the dip of Toya's cheeks and tried to keep his heart from bursting.
If the gods existed, he didn't want their paradise. This was his heaven.