Gift fic for p3nlight


Title: Make them gold
Pairing: Nakajima Kento/Kikuchi Fuma
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A bit of pining (okay, a lot of it ._.) Akakame references.
Summary: Marius is lovesick. Fuma is not… maybe.
Notes: Dear Recipient-san, thank you for all your wonderful plot suggestions! I tried to integrate a few of them in different ways in this and I really hope you can enjoy it.
Infinite thanks to my beta, who took my clumsy words and made them readable and also made this fic better with her advice. You are the best and I love you! *-* And infinite thanks to my proofreader/cheerleader, this wouldn't have happened without your support and suggestions.
Title stolen from a CHVRCHES song, because I’m that unoriginal.



Marius has a crush.

Fuma recognizes the symptoms way before he wants to acknowledge them and months before he wants to do anything about it. Or that he feels he needs to do anything about it, because he doesn’t actually want to get involved in this.

But Marius moping around all sad isn’t natural, and it’s really getting on everybody’s nerves, especially Fuma’s. It alters their precarious balance, and it’s really obnoxious even if Kento says it’s kind of cute.

“Awww…” Kento coos, when Fuma finally addresses the issue with him. “They grow up so fast...”

“You are not his real mother, you know?” Fuma retorts, maybe a bit snarkier than usual.

But even Kento’s annoyed glance seems to have hearts drawn on it. “C’mon Fuma, it’s his first crush! It’s adorable!”

“You didn’t make such a fuss about Sou’s first crush.”

“She was a video game character, it’s not the same.”

“How do you know Marius isn’t playing Tokimeki Memorial?”

“I know. I can tell.” Kento’s eyes turn blissful, and Fuma just knows he has to run, now, before it’s too late. But for some reason he stays there. “I worry because I remember my first crush, okay? Don’t you remember yours?”

And Fuma knows he should have fled.

“Gods…why do you have to turn this into some kind of mushy variety show!” Fuma exclaims, trying to roll his eyes in self-defense.

“You do know that you never talk about things like that, right? Not even in magazines…” Kento’s tone is kind of pondering, and he has that look on his face again, like he could read Fuma’s mind if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. Want to, that is. It makes Fuma feel uncomfortable for more reasons than he wants to admit.

“You cover our unit’s saccharine quota quite well by yourself, Nakajima. We don’t want our fans dying from a diabetic coma.”

“Saccharin doesn’t mess with diabetes... ” Kento’s voice is low, and his expression odd and faraway. For all Fuma knows, Kento could actually be planning an imaginary interview about first love and first kisses and do they taste like lemon or not?

It’s a bit irritating, the way that this topic brings back so many memories Fuma doesn’t really want to contemplate right now. The way it kind of stirs the stupid butterflies in his stomach he gets every once in a while when he is alone with Kento that he has been trying to get rid of since he was too young to know how.

He definitely remembers his first crush; he never had a second one. Or a second love, in spite of having many first kisses and as many bitter endings. But it’s not something he wants to talk about, and above all, it’s not something he wants to discuss with Kento of all people.

“You never even told me…” Kento strikes again, pouting this time, and Fuma hopes he isn’t blushing, even if his face burns a bit.

He always wants to kiss Kento’s pouts away, to hold him tight and fill his soul with Kento’s scent. The way Kento manages to make a corny mess out of him with only a smile, or a look, or a damn flicker of a nostril never fails to frustrate Fuma.

“I need coffee.” Fuma says, and heads for the exit door without looking back.

He is running away and he knows it, but this isn’t about bravery. It’s pure self-preservation.

As usual.


***


“Hey? Fuma-kun...?” Marius appears out of nowhere, grabbing Fuma by the sleeve of his jacket and pulling softly at him.

And Fuma cringes before turning around, because he has been actively trying to avoid this for the past three days.

It’s not that he doesn’t care for the younger members of his group, because his love for them rivals even Kento’s; it’s just that he is much more comfortable with other ways to express it. He likes helping them with school stuff without them noticing he is indeed helping, and he also enjoys wrestling with them on the floor and messing up their hair… while holding them in a headlock. But Fuma’s never been good with words -that’s Kento’s area of expertise.

“Do you have a moment?” Marius asks.

“I…” Fuma thinks about refusing, about making up an imaginary urgent meeting, but then Marius’ eyes meet his, full of innocent sorrow, and Fuma knows he can’t. “Sure.”

They sit on the floor, side by side, and Fuma has to wait a bit until Marius gathers the courage to start talking.

“There is this person…” Marius begins, but Fuma interrupts him.

“Listen…” Fuma says, trying not to sound too rough. “Are you sure you want to talk about this with me? I mean... isn’t Kento a better option? He is the one who does the talking in this unit... all of it.”

Marius softly chuckles at Fuma’s attempt to lighten the mood, but it’s clear that he only does it so Fuma doesn’t feel worse than he already does.

“I love Kento-kun, it’s just… I don’t think he’d understand it?”

Marius plays with the hem of his shirt and Fuma is suddenly taken back to the memory of an eleven-year old Marius, fumbling with the words of a language he was still struggling to understand and shyly asking Fuma to help him with homework. Fuma supposes this situation isn’t so different, but he hasn’t too much to offer in the form of guidance this time.

“And Matsushima...?” Fuma asks as his last chance of salvation.

“Well… this isn’t exactly a video game situation.” At least Marius is really smiling now.

“I just don’t think I can help you.” Fuma forces the words out. Admitting defeat is definitely not his strong suit.

“I just... need someone who will listen to me,” Marius says, shyly. So Fuma nods, swallows his uncomfort, and listens.

Marius tells him about Germany, about how much he still misses his grandma and that he sometimes feels guilty for wanting to be here, in Japan, so much. He tells Fuma that he sometimes feels lonely, even among hundreds of people, in rehearsal, even in concerts, and he tells Fuma how much it hurts, because maybe he is betraying his friends by feeling like this. And he tells him about school, about this new transfer student, about how much brighter and warmer everything feels when they are together, as friends. And the ache in his chest when they are not.

“I’ve been thinking about confessing…” Marius says then, suddenly turning to look at Fuma, who can’t react quickly enough to hide his surprise. Marius’ giggle warms Fuma’s heart, nevertheless. “You look really shocked.”

“Don’t tease your elders, brat.” Fuma says, mockingly punching Marius shoulder.

“I’m serious, though.” Marius sighs and stares intently at his shoes.

“Why?” There’s an edge in Fuma’s voice, but it doesn’t look like Marius notices it, or at least he is gentle enough not to comment about it.

“Because… isn’t it fair for the other person to know what you are feeling?”

Fuma gapes and thanks all the gods in heaven that Marius isn’t looking his way. Fair?

“What about rejection? It’s school, right? Wouldn’t it be uncomfortable to be there every day in the same place if something like that happens?” What if he feels betrayed? What if he pushes you away? And Fuma wonders when this turned around to be about himself and Kento in his mind and why is he pushing his fears onto his fifteen-year-old coworker. He knew this conversation was the worst idea ever.

Marius just tilts his head, smiling sadly.

“I know it’s naive but… I have trust in this.”

“That you won’t be rejected?”

“Actually, I’m almost sure I’ll be rejected. But… I trust this person. Even if we haven’t been friends for that long. I trust that my feelings will be respected. Maybe it’s foolish?”

This time Marius does see Fuma gaping, but Fuma doesn’t care. Marius' words resonate too much inside him, making a weird kind of sense, and too many feelings Fuma thought he had under control are resurfacing viciously because of them.

Because there are too many cons, a whole mountain range of them, enough to bury all the pros and build a complete civilization over them, and Fuma could point out every single one at Marius right now; he has been hiding behind them ever since he first discovered he had feelings for a member of his unit. He has been using these reasons -or excuses, as a darker part of his mind provides- as a shield against those feelings for so long it feels as natural as the air around him.

What if Kento doesn’t feel the same? What if he only thinks he feels the same but it’s an illusion influenced by everything that is expected from the two lead singers of a unit? What if Fuma’s been reading signals the wrong way? What if it doesn’t work out? What if it does? What about the inevitable breakup, and mutual friends, and unit members they have almost adopted as sons?

“Aren’t you scared?” Fuma asks in a low voice, no longer caring about the reversal of their roles.

“Yes, I am.” Marius is whispering too, but his voice isn’t shaking. There’s nothing but resolve in his posture when Fuma side glances at him. “But I don’t think being scared is a good reason to keep from doing things. Like… you always tell me is alright to feel nervous before going onstage, right? I suppose this is similar.”

And it’s official: Marius, the baby of the group and five years his junior, isn’t only already taller than Fuma, he also has more balls than him.

The silence stretches for a couple of minutes before Fuma can pull himself together enough to talk.

“Good luck, then,” is all he manages to say anyway.

“I’m sorry I took so much of your time, Fuma-kun.” Marius looks a lot less mopey already, so Fuma doesn’t consider this the waste of time he expected it to be. Even with the collateral damage, he is happy to have been helpful.

“Don’t worry about it…” Fuma says, and forces himself to smile.

“Thank you,” Marius says, and he quickly hugs Fuma before standing up.

The fact that Fuma doesn’t kick Marius as he leaves is a dead giveaway of his confused status.


***


When the alarm clock on Fuma’s bedside table hits 3:00 am, he finally stops looking at it and resigns himself to not to sleep.

It’s really annoying to be an insomniac again because of this when he is well past his teens and supposedly more in control.

Damn Marius and his puppy love, and his big eyes full of wonder, and damn his grit. Damn Kento and his incapability of listening without bringing out pompoms, glitter and sickeningly optimistic opinions disguised as advice, because maybe if Marius hadn’t been scared of being cheered to death by their older member he wouldn’t have needed to seek comfort in Fuma.

And damn Fuma himself, because now he feels he can’t keep up his act anymore.

There’s no one for him to go to, and that puts Fuma in a disadvantage in comparison with Marius. Fuma can't just go to his best friend and tell him about this. Because of course his best friend is the problem.

His best friend, first crush and groupmate. Kento.

Fuma doesn’t want to consider how many years he has spent falling in and out of love with Kento. It has been an never ending cycle of denial and attempts to get over it since their B.I. Shadow days, when it took Fuma months just to figure out what his restlessness when he was around Kento was about.

He has been trying to get rid of the way he feels ever since Kento started dating his first boyfriend, some stupid boy who didn’t deserve him, and Fuma’s heart broke for the first time. But it was a lost battle from the start. Some months later, when Fuma was holding a recently-dumped and crying Kento in his arms, he kind of started suspecting the way his heart ached was not something that was going to fade away.

It’s not just physical attraction, because that would be easy to deal with. It’s Kento’s goofiness when there are no cameras around, his passion and perseverance and even the way he is flawed, imperfect and human in spite of himself. It’s that Kento is gentle with everybody, no matter if he is having the worst day ever and hasn’t slept more than two hours a day for months. The way Kento cares for Fuma even when Fuma’s mood is swinging like a revolving door. The way Kento cares for everyone and never takes care of himself.

Fuma wants to take care of Kento. So much.

And he feels like kicking himself in the teeth because he doesn’t enjoy being some kind of shoujo manga heroine one bit, eternally pinning for their best friend and never doing anything about it. It doesn’t matter how much Kento might like that idea.

Maybe Marius is absolutely wrong, maybe it isn’t fair to let Kento know about his feelings, pushing them on him. Maybe this isn’t about courage at all, and maybe he has been doing the right thing by sucking it up and enduring everything. Maybe Fuma really is protecting Kento by not confessing, as he has been trying to tell himself all this time.

Until now he has been Kento’s close friend and confident, the shoulder Kento has cried on after every romantic letdown; he has been there for Kento every time, even if Kento’s sadness for another person tugs at Fuma’s possessiveness so much that the pain he feels is physical. Fuma always wondered if he was betraying Kento’s trust by doing so, but he always thought confessing was about trying to pursue some kind of relationship with the other person. It never crossed his mind it was about being honest.

He buries his face on the pillow and tries not to scream. Fucking Marius, what does he know about fairness anyway?

Fuma feels like throwing a tantrum, complete with screaming and kicking on the floor, but he is an adult. Maybe he’d just tickle Marius until he begs for mercy the next time he sees him.


***


Shounen Club filming day comes too soon.

Fuma isn’t anywhere near ready, processing everything his conversation with Marius had unearthed. His head's still spinning and all the feelings he had gotten so damned good at suppressing are just boiling in his blood. And of course Kento chooses today of all days for talking about their onscreen dynamics.

“Let’s not interact that much on the gaming section today, okay?” Kento tells him, like he is planning strategies for a match of some twisted sport. “Our manager wants us to look like we are not talking to each other.”

And Fuma knows exactly what this is about.

It has been happening for a long, long while, maybe since Sexy Zone’s debut if not a bit before that. At some point the Agency decided that they would be perfect for an Akakame reenactment. Some of the fans agreed. And Kento accepted it.

On bad days, Fuma thinks that Kento enjoys being the Agency’s puppet, always pleasing, always smiling. On good days, Fuma remembers just how much Kento loves what he does, how much effort, work, and soul he puts into his work. Today is a mix of both.

Try as he might, Fuma’s voice still sounds a little raspy when he finally speaks.

“I am not Akanshi.”

They are not the new Akakame, not to Fuma at least. No matter what the Agency wants, no matter how hard they want to resurrect that sort of magic formula of success that was never their creation in the first place. He and Kento are different people. And Fuma is absolutely glad for that.

It’s not because of all the stories and rumours about Kamenashi and Akanishi, which have reached levels of mythology by now. Fuma doesn’t know if indeed something happened, if it ended horribly, or happily, or not at all. And he doesn’t care.

He is Fuma. And Kento is Kento.

“You know what I mean,” Kento insists, with that dorky half-grin he always plasters on when he tries to convince Fuma of something Kento is not entirely convinced of himself.

“No,” Fuma says, and it echoes in the room, satisfactorily loud. Clear. Roaring like his heartbeat.

“Fuma?”

“We are different people.”

“I know… it’s just…”

“If we mess us up, it will be in our own way.” And it won’t be the end of our world if we do. Fuma’s face lights up at the revelation.

“I’m… not sure what you’re talking about…” Kento’s body language is clear: This is not a good place, but Fuma has never been particularly good at following instructions.

It’s a dressing room, and they’re about fifteen minutes away from the stage call, which would give Fuma the perfect excuse for running away. But he doesn’t want to. And he certainly didn’t expect that to feel so empowering when he is almost shaking and his stomach feels so tight it might implode.

Maybe Marius was right, or maybe he was wrong, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. Fuma wants to be honest about his feelings.

“You are not Kamenashi. I know who you are, and you are not him,” Fuma almost hisses. And Kento’s tension is clear in the visible setting of his jaw, but Fuma just goes on. “I know you actually do love romantic movies even when half of your cheesiness is just a pose. I know your favorite color, and your favorite ramen restaurant. I know that your first crush wasn’t Yamada like the whole universe is convinced of, but Hokuto, and I know who your second crush was. I still remember the name of the girl you gave your first kiss to, and the name of your first boyfriend, when you were seventeen and scared to death of being found out.”

Kento just stares at him, and for a fraction of a second all of Fuma’s usual excuses for not doing this parade through his mind along with red alerts and warnings. But he doesn’t stop.

“I know the name of every fucking bastard who has ever broken your heart. And I know it because every time, every second I have sat there nursing your heart back to health, I’ve been wishing I was brave enough to tell you…”

“Fuma, please…” There’s an edge of panic in Kento’s eyes now, a desperation that makes Fuma curse his bad timing. But he is selfishly not sorry, not at all.

The door to the dressing room opens and the production assistant's familiar voice reaches them. “Five minutes."

Kento stares at him when the assistant has made his exit, and even if Fuma didn’t get to say half of the things he wanted Kento to know, Kento’s pleading eyes are enough to stop him for now. They stay at a standstill for precious seconds, and the silence is heavy until Kento exits the room.

For once it isn’t Fuma who is running away.


***


Kento is an expert at hiding his emotions on screen and they somehow survive to the talking part of the show with minimum incidents. Fuma can’t even look in Kento’s direction without feeling his stomach flutter. But it’s okay, he supposes. They are, after all, in the not-talking phase of their fanservice dynamics. Kento must be proud.

Unfortunately, this time there is a duet scheduled for both of them, and Fuma fears not even Kento’s acting skills can save them. He hasn’t been this nervous about a performance since before Sexy Zone’s debut.

Fuma tries his best; he is a professional after all. But he just can’t stop shaking inside, and he feels vulnerable as hell when it's only him and Kento on stage. With the spotlights somehow shielding them from the rest of the world, it feels intimate in a way it never did before.

Fuma’s heart beats with an unusual rhythm and he has so much trouble controlling his body he thanks the gods he doesn’t have to dance. And there’s also the song to worry about. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times they practiced it, it’s not right. They are somehow ahead of the playback. Mere fractions of seconds but it sounds wrong. Perfect harmony, but out of beat, too rushed. And Fuma could laugh at how thick the metaphor is becoming but they have to pull this out or it will air messy as it is. Shokura filming doesn’t allow for second chances.

He can feel Kento’s side glance and there is a bit of worry there. It’s not evident by any means, but Fuma knows Kento’s body language too well. Fuma is also a bit too acquainted with Kento’s mental processes for his sanity, and he is almost sure that Kento is assessing the situation and trying to find a solution.

In any other circumstance it might have been annoying, Kento’s executive mind trying to save the day once again. But now Fuma is glad one of them is in charge enough to solve this.

Then, he notices the way the volume of Kento’s voice goes up a bit. Firm, reassuring. Lean on me. And Fuma follows.

Kento’s pace is perfect, his grasp of rhythm methodic and strong, like the piano player he is. It works. They work. Fuma can wrap his voice around Kento’s, cling to it and know he won’t fall, that Kento would never let him fall, no matter what happens between them.

It’s so simple. He can trust Kento, implicitly. Even if Fuma messes up, even if Kento kind of panics. They are both idiots, but they can trust each other with their lives. Fuma should have known that.

The song ends and the fangirls scream. Fuma feels Kento’s silent sigh of relief in his bones, and he feels tingly all over because of it, even as they exit the stage.

“We need to talk.” Kento all but rasps, so close to Fuma’s ear he can’t help but shiver. The rustle backstage is chaotic as usual, but Fuma hears Kento’s whispered words loud and clear. “My house, after filming”.

Fuma nods.


***


Kento drives too carefully for Fuma’s nerves and it takes them ages to reach Kento’s home. It might have been more bearable under other circumstances, but the silence between them is long past uncomfortable and quickly becoming unbearable.

For some reason, Fuma doesn’t want to talk about anything while they are in a car, so he waits until they arrive at the Nakajima household, through the greetings of both of Kento’s parents until they can escape them and barricade themselves in Kento’s room.

They don’t sit on Kento’s bed right away, like they usually do. Fuma doesn’t think he could manage sitting still today of all days. So they stand in the middle of the room, and Kento waits for Fuma to start talking.

“I like you”, Fuma blurts out after some minutes of really awkward silence.

Kento’s expression is a mix of confusion and disbelief, and Fuma wonders briefly what all his fans would think about their loveholic prince being this clumsy at handling a confession. Maybe one day that will be funny.

“No”, Kento says, vehemently. “You don’t.”

“Sorry, but you don’t get to decide that”, Fuma flares up, but deep inside he is almost grateful. He can deal with arguing with Kento; he is used to it. Kento being stubborn and Fuma being even more stubborn is familiar territory, unlike everything else that’s happening. “This isn’t some kind of strategy for a magazine interview, Nakajima. You don’t get to plan this.”

Maybe this is about control, and Fuma knows how much Kento hates not being the one on top of everything. But if confessing really is about being honest, then he must risk Kento hating him a bit for this. And he trusts Kento to forgive him afterwards.

“What’s with you all of the sudden?” Kento asks, looking straight into Fuma’s eyes. He is searching for something, desperately, but Fuma can’t say what, and he is tempted to blame it all on Marius, but his strange mood won’t admit a comic relief.

“It’s not all of the sudden," Fuma forces out, clenching his fist as if that would help him stop quivering. “You always ask me who my first crush was, right? You. It was you.”

Kento gasps and Fuma doesn’t really know what he was supposed to feel but he is pretty sure it’s not this lightheadedness.

“Why tell me now?” Kento’s voice sounds shaky, and Fuma can’t keep looking at Kento’s eyes, because it doesn’t matter what Fuma sees there, it will be too much for him to handle.

“Why not?” Fuma answers, simply. “It’s not… I don’t expect you to do anything, by the way. I just needed you to know. I needed to be honest with you.” And he is going to kick Marius anyway.

The following silence is so awkward that Fuma considers running away a couple of times. When Kento finally speaks, his voice is little more than a whisper.

“It’s not like I haven’t considered it…”

It’s Fuma’s turn to be shocked.

“What do you mean by that?” he asks. Because his brain just refuses to process all the implications of Kento’s words.

“I got confused… a couple of times.” Kento draws out, and after he looks at Fuma’s undoubtedly dumbfounded face, he adds, “about what I felt for you.”

“And you didn’t say anything…” Fuma is in no position to judge, but his voice doesn’t seem to know it.

“It wasn’t that simple. I didn’t know how you felt. I didn’t want to impose my feelings on you or risk messing up our group just for a…” Kento stops abruptly. “There were a lot of reasons, and you must have thought about that too.”

It’s true. Fuma had his reasons and they sounded very similar to Kento’s, but something about Kento’s tone bothers him.

“Is that what I’m doing now?” Fuma asks. His throat hurts a bit when he speaks past the sudden lump in it. “Imposing my feelings on you?”

Kento sighs, and he sounds like he is barely managing to control his exasperation.

“Why do you have to be so…” Kento begins asking but it seems like he can’t find the right word. He breathes deeply. “I’m not saying you are. It’s just that… I never thought… I never planned anything about this...”

This is wrong. And Fuma doesn’t really understand why this whole conversation is riling him up so badly. He wasn’t supposed to want reciprocation, he wasn't supposed to get upset about this. But that was before he knew Kento had gone over the “what if’s” too, and wholeheartedly discarded the possibility. And Fuma doesn’t really know which part of it scares and hurts him the most.

“You want us to be Akanishi and Kamenashi! How come this wasn’t in your plans? You plan every fucking thing!” he ends up almost yelling.

“I don’t plan my feelings!” Kento looks just as wounded as Fuma feels, and he might be just as terrified. “And I don’t want us to be them! I don’t care about all that; it’s a management thing and you should understand it. It’s just work.”

“And what am I to you?” Fuma is pushing it, and he knows it. Maybe it’s all the tension he has accrued over too many years of pining that finally found an outlet, or maybe he just wants this whole thing cleared up as much as possible so he can, some day, leave it behind. It doesn’t matter why; he can’t stop. “Just work?”

Fuma knows he went too far just by the look in Kento’s eyes, betrayed and flared up. He thinks about apologizing but he can’t get the words past his throat. And then Kento steps closer and Fuma tries not to flinch, tries to remember if Kento has ever got into a fist fight that wasn’t a choreographed scene of a dorama or if he has even punched someone at all before.

Kento kissing him is not what Fuma had expected, even if Kento isn’t doing much more than pressing his lips to Fuma’s. It’s enough to make Fuma’s body tingle though. And for a split second Fuma just goes with it, closes his eyes, lets the fuzziness spread all over his body.

Kento’s hand is at the nape of Fuma’s neck, but he’s not exerting any pressure. Fuma has no trouble backing away when the noise in his brain becomes too unbearable.

“What was that?” Fuma asks, barely inches apart from Kento’s face. He could get farther away from him, he just doesn’t want to.

“I don’t know. I thought it’d help.” Kento doesn’t move either, and Fuma is becoming deeply aware of Kento’s body, his warmth, the spicy scent of his cologne and traces of soap from his quick shower after filming.

“This isn’t a romantic comedy.” Fuma tries for snappy, but his voice sounds husky and maybe like he is craving for more. “And that wasn’t an answer.”

“It works in manga too.” Kento’s expression is two heartbeats away from a pout, and Fuma melts a little in spite of himself.

But he is not ready to admit being the shoujo heroine to Kento’s prince fantasy. Not out loud. So he sighs, and backs down a step or two, away from Kento’s pull and Fuma’s increasing need to kiss him senseless.

“I like you,” Fuma says. Again. Because maybe this time they can actually get it right. “I’ve liked you for a long, long time. I can’t stop thinking about you. Would you go out with me?”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Kento asks.

“I trust you,” Fuma answers and he is shaking again, and somehow none of it matters. “And I…” Fuma takes a deep breath, because words aren’t his best friends, especially embarrassing words, but he needs to say this. “I love you. As a friend or as anything else we get to be. That won’t change, no matter how much we mess things up. I trust us.”

There are tears in Kento’s eyes, but that’s alright. Fuma knows Kento’s happy tears and these look like them.

“Okay…” Kento says, his voice barely above a whisper and breaking at the end.

They are a pair of terrorized idiots and Fuma can’t help himself, he has known restraint for too long and the only thing he wants right now is to kiss Kento.

He closes the distance between them and holds Kento tight, inhales deeply and ignores the way his blood hammers in his ears. He rests his cheek on Kento’s for a bit, gathering courage. He thinks about asking for permission, about saying something, anything, but he is only able to get a sigh past his lips. And somehow it’s enough. Kento gets it.

Kento turns his face and meets Fuma halfway, a butterfly brush of their lips first and then another, longer, then deeper. And Fuma never thought it would be this easy, just like a duet song.

Kento leads and Fuma is happy to follow. And they are good together, perfect harmony once again, even when their kisses get harsher, and heat crawls all over Fuma’s body and he has to come up for air because he feels dizzy.

“Okay,” Fuma drawls, all air, rejoicing in Kento’s smile against his lips.

He knows Kento will want to plan things, and discuss details and disclosure deadlines and procedures. And Fuma might have to bit his tongue to not ask for goddamned handbook on dating Kento, but that will happen later.

For now, they can kiss some more.


***


“So...” Fuma begins saying, trying to be nonchalant as he approaches Marius on the first occasion he has to talk privately with him during rehearsal.

It’s good for Fuma that this is Marius and not Sou, who might pretend not to know what he is talking about just to mess with him. Fuma is bad enough at stuff like this.

“I did confess,” Marius informs, but his face is unreadable. Neither pain nor joy show up on his cute mixed Japanese features.

“And?” Fume prods.

“I got rejected.” Marius voice is tinged with sadness and Fuma wishes he knew what to say to make him feel better.

“Well, pal…” Fuma tries to switch to his almost non-existing comforting side, but Marius’ smile stops him.

“I’m fine...” Marius rushes to say, and he still sounds a bit sad, but he doesn’t look that devastated, so Fuma chooses to believe it’s true. “I got to tell that person my feelings and that is very important.” Marius looks up, and Fuma nods.

He still doesn’t know what to say, so he waits for Marius to continue.

“It wasn’t about me, you know? I just wanted to let that person know how wonderful they were. It made me happy.”

There are some bright unshed tears in Marius' eyes, but Fuma doesn’t worry too much about them. Because of course it must hurt. So, Fuma smiles, trying to be reassuring, and punches Marius lightly in the shoulder.

There are lots of thing Fuma wants to say. You are way braver than me is one of them, I’m extremely proud of being your friend or This too shall pass. But he can’t articulate them.

“Thank you,” is all Fuma says. Maybe one day he’ll tell Marius all that he’s thankful for.

For now, he just ruffles Marius' hair as their youngest member excuses himself and heads out to the hallway that leads to the bathrooms.

Kento enters the room when Marius is gone. He doesn’t make too much noise but Fuma is able to feel his energy, his presence; he always has been.

“When the hell did he get so grown up?” Fuma muses, still staring at the door Marius used for exiting the room.

“You are not his real father, you know?” Kento teases, standing next to Fuma.

“Shut up,” Fuma grumbles at him, but his smiles gives him away. He is just too happy. “I hope he gets over this soon.”

“We’ll help him heal,” Kento promises, hooking up his pinky with Fuma’s.

They stay like that for a long, long while.