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Takahiro was busy doing stuffs—and by that he meant lying on his back on the heated floor as he used his fingers to scroll through the instagram posts of the people he follows. In fact, he had just liked the photo of his adorable little brother with their dad with a soft, contented smile plastered his face. He’s glad that his father is doing well despite being uhm older, and that his baby brother is doing his best in his own band.
He can still remember all those years that he spent—when he was younger and full of teenage angst and immaturity—hating his family name, hating the fame associated with his parents’ name. It was so childish, so unreasonable but, hey, he’s dumb and stumbling in the dark that he ended up hating everything and everyone in this world.
But that was back then.
When Toru still hadn’t barged into his life a fucking wrecking ball.
When the band is still on their wobbly legs, walking and flailing like a newborn animal to reach their goals. They sure made a lot of mistakes, broke out into countless fights and screaming, and tumbled down the ground from losing their lead guitarist but Taka never regretted any of it. All of the memories they’ve shared, all of the songs they’ve made, all of the times they’ve spent together—be it messing around in the streets, be it bullying Tomoya to tears, be it introducing the then-blushing virgin Ryota to girls, be it getting at each other’s throat every time they had the chance—Taka treasures everything of it.
And he will, until the day he dies.
Toru changed him. The band changed him and made him the man he is right now.
He’s grateful to their leader—who for some reason is still missing in action even if it’s already almost noon—for everything that he had done for him, whether it’s unconscious or not. So he’s glad…he might’ve said that earlier but he still said it again because why the fuck not?
Anyway, he’s busy smiling like a fool on Hiro’s and their dad’s photo, he even debated on writing a comment but decided against it. He knows that his brother has this…mini-avoidance with social media or something. SO he just stared at it before scrolling down only to see Tomoya and Ryota’s posts.
With their babies.
No, not Tomoya and Ryota’s babies—they’re not even together and that’s just impossible—but their respective children sitting on their laps, laying on a –was that a bed? A couch?
Taka’s almond-shaped eyes wandered on the cute, little creatures on his phone—those plump rounded cheeks, cute button noses and slanted eyes—add those to the onesies their wearing and Taka is already screaming and squealing at the top of his lungs.
“AAAAAHHHHH!!!” he screamed rolling over the floor on all fours before he stood up. His voice is so loud it could probably wake up the dead. Or their neighbors for all that matters. He then ran towards the hallway leading to the bedroom—his bedroom—his phone flailing in his hand, “Toru-san, ahhh!!!”
He kicked the door open, allowing the light from the hallway to flood into the darkness of his room. Light beams filtered through the room, landing on the bundled figure on the bed. Toru said that he’s tired but Taka doesn’t give a fuck because you’re ought to be tired if you’re working out right?!
It’s his fault!
Taka is feeling rather gleeful and hyperactive today that he totally forgot that his lover had this…deep-seated hatred towards waking up abruptly. And he’s also probably suicidal to do these but damn. He padded, no, ran towards the furniture and dived onto the bed, not caring if his elbows might have landed on the guitarist’s gut making him let out a pained—
“Ugh—!”
—followed by a string of curses and swearing’s that will make all of Toru’s ancestors bow in shame for their descendant’s dirty, dirty language.
“What the fucking—,” the guitarist bleary opened his eyes and glared at Taka with those heavily-lidded orbs, “—hell, Takahiro?!”
The mention of his full name through that deep, rough baritone makes Taka shiver and almost forgot his reasons for suddenly attacking the innocent guitarist. Damn, he bit his lower plump lip, as he make adjusted his frame over the grouchy leader, Toru’s voice really have that effect on me!
And by effect, he meant that the lower half of his body is reacting the way it shouldn’t be in the broad daylight.
…
…
Anyways, he grinned and pushed his phone towards the guitarist’s eyes—the slick, black gadget almost smashed the leader’s nose—
“Do you want to break my face you—,”
“No, silly!” Taka said, his frame shaking as he tried to stop himself from cooing on how cute their sleepy leader is, “Look at this! Look, look!”
Toru’s eyes squinted at the harsh light from his phone and took an eternity on inspecting the photo. Taka is smiling the whole time as he watched the light danced on his lover’s face—his eyes wandering on those heavily scrunched up eyebrows, tall nose, his thin, lips…
Which was suddenly pulled down with a deep frown.
What the hell.
“What the hell?” Toru gritted out, magically repeating Taka’s exact thoughts, “Why the fuck would I care for some girl’s photo, huh!?”
Huh?
Taka blinked in confusion before he turned the phone around and see some random girl’s body in a bikini—oh shit! No wonder why Toru-san looks murderous!
“Uhm ahahahaha, that’s not what I’m talking about!” he nervously laughed as he scrolled down again to their band mates’ posts while Toru-san is huffing and muttering something like “sure, Taka sure you filthy prick” before he turned his phone back to the guitarist, “Look! Aren’t they cute?”
Toru san took another century in looking at the photos.
He’s just like that—dazing and staring into nothingness with a lost look on his face—even during interviews—and moving a bit slowly because he’s not a hyperactive person like Ryota and Tomoya.
Or maybe that’s just the sign of aging?
Whatever.
After what it seems like forever, Toru finally lifted his gaze from the blinding light of Taka’s phone to look at the vocalist himself. Taka is grinning like a kid himself, he looks so happy that Toru even decided to postpone punishing this midget for jumping onto him while he’s happily sleeping.
On the vocalist’s bed.
Huh…
Isn’t it also mine?
Whatever.
Anyways, he stared at the vocalist’s face, noting how Taka’s eyes crinkled in delight, his full lips were wide with a youthful grin as he stared back at Toru with a hopeful and enthusiastic expressions on his face.
He looks so happy looking at Ryota and Tomoya’s kids…
“They’re so cute, dammit!” Taka said as he pulled his phone back and stared at their photos more—his almond-shaped eyes twinkling in joy as if he’s the father of those kids, “Those two are really having the best time of their lives, huh?! They don’t even deserve these cute kids! They’re so precious for the two of them mou!” he huffed in annoyance.
Meanwhile, Toru can feel something thick, something painful forming down his throat at the sight. Taka looks so happy staring at those little and chubby faces, Taka sounds so happy talking about those children…
Toru knows—oh, god knows how painful it is—that their vocalist also dreams of having children of his own. And build a family, like every normal man wants.
A normal family—composed of a father and a mother and their children.
But Taka wouldn’t—would never—have that so long as Toru is his lover.
And it hurts…it hurts that even after Takahiro had practically given him everything—he still could not be able to give the one thing that will make his lover ecstatic as hell in the future.
Damn…I hate this…
This…
This feeling of wanting to do something but being not able to do it. It’s frustrating, mou!
Toru swallowed the painful lump in his throat as he drowsily reached for the vocalist’s head and ran his calloused fingers through the thick curly hair. Taka stopped blabbering like the merry idiot he is for a second, before he beamed down at him—the smile on his face and understanding glint on his eyes were so precious, so pretty that it makes Toru just want to ravish him right there and then.
“Taka, I… I…” he started, not knowing how to voice out his thoughts.
They have talked about this before, when Ryota and Tomoya announced—to him and Taka—that their respective wives are heavy with children. After their meeting and small celebration, Taka had drunkenly slurred that he also wants children, that he wants cute, little Toru-chan running around the house in the future.
Toru didn’t answered back then because Taka was drunk. He hoped that the vocalist would forget that weird, tragic conversation but to his immense horror, Taka had remembered every fucking detail of it. He laughed as he reminisced Toru’s stone-faced reaction the night before but when Toru didn’t answer—because he’s too busy wallowing in self-despair and insecurity—Taka just sighed, padded to him, wearing nothing but the guitarist’s overly-sized shirt and hugged him.
He pulled Toru until his head rested on the vocalist’s chest while his fingers tangled themselves on his blond locks. He then whispered sweet words, a few cussing’s here and there before saying the sweetest thing that Toru had ever heard from him since…waking up that day.
“Silly, Toru-san, don’t look like you’re gonna die,” he mumbled, as his dainty fingers fiddled with Toru’s earrings, “Even if we can’t have children of our own, I still and will love you till the end, nee? Stop pouting mou…you look older when you’re looking like a constipated dinosaur…”
Taka smiled at him as he put his phone down, “You’re thinking of unnecessary things again, aho. Stop that, mou!” he said as he fling his phone somewhere at the edge of the bed. He then leaned forward, resting his body above Toru’s and tucking his head under the guitarist’s chin.
“There are a lot of things that will happen in the future,” he cryptically said, “Some bad, some good and they will happen even if we don’t want it so don’t torture your brain thinking ahead ne? Besides, what’s matter the most is that we’re together, the band is together, Tomoya and Ryota happy with the family they’re building—what’s matter the most is that we’re happy, right?”
He looked up, his eyes wide as if asking reassurance from the leader himself. Toru felt himself instantly gone at that, so he just nodded, pulled the vocalist closer and planted a chaste kiss on Taka’s forehead.
“Right,” he agreed, “Right…”
“Cool!” Taka said, snuggling further to his blanket-covered body, “So fucking get up already so we can buy stuffs for these angels! Shit, do you know any kids’ shop here? I should’ve bought a shit-ton of baby stuffs in Norway, dammit!”
Toru groaned—mentally cursing at Taka’s magnificent ability to just ruin the comfortable and romantic mood between them—and let his head fall back on the soft pillows. Damn, here’s the resident bipolar tyrant again…