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Yuki tosses restlessly to the side, dragging the duvet up over his head, only to throw it off seconds later when he runs out of air. His pillow has slipped out from under his head, almost falling to the floor; the bottom of the sheets is tangled around Yuki’s legs. Though the windows are tightly shut, neither the glass nor Yuki’s hands, clasped over his ears, can block out the howl of December wind. The chilling sound brings a sense of unease into his dreams, growing heavier as the images swirling under his eyelids crystalize into a familiar scene. The stage is rendered in dark grays, dim despite the lights that Yuki knows should be on him, the music muted and distorted, as if slowed down. None of the faces in the crowd have any detail, some silhouettes but clouds of dense smoke. Still, there are only two concerts Yuki keeps dreaming of; the other dream ends in relief and safety, a dazzling figure shielding Yuki from danger with his back and his fists - here, no one would come in time. Even though the Yuki who performed here, on that day, had no idea Re:vale would never sing the encore, in his nightmares, Yuki always knows. He struggles, even though there’s no use; no matter how many times he’s tried, he can never wake before the scenario plays out. The air of helplessness preludes a screech of metal and a deafening crash, drawn out as the light fixture falls in slow motion. Yuki can only watch, unable to move a single finger to push the figure next to him out o the way, his throat sealed off, bone dry. His vision spins and blurs. Only the color of blood gushing out is vivid - so much blood, about to cover the whole stage, someone help, he-
His frozen body shakes violently, as if from the impact still reverberating through the platform underneath his feet - but no; the disturbance is something new, an error in the script he’s repeated countless times. Someone he can’t see is shaking his arm, more and more forcefully. Yuki’s view is still filled with red, but among the confusion, a nostalgic smell reaches his nose. It smells of - home, something cooking, sunlight. Nothing about the mix of scents fits the ghastly memory; together with the steady grip on Yuki’s shoulder, it pulls him towards waking.
“Yuki? Yuki!”
The voice that keeps calling out his name is bright at first, but soon turns soft with concern. “Look, the bed is a mess, what’s wrong?” Sheets shuffle all around Yuki, straightened out and pulled back into place. There’s a sound like someone hitting a pillow with his fist a few times; Yuki’s head is lifted gently, a fluffed up pillow placed underneath. A big, strong palm brushes over Yuki’s forehead and cups his cheek. It’s pleasantly warm on his chilled, sweaty skin. “Did you have a bad dream? It’s not still going on, is it? Yuki, darling, wake up - “
There’s something about this voice that’s enough to bring tears Yuki’s eyes. He finally pries his eyelids open to see the face leaning over his light up in a relieved smile. It’s radiance rivals that of the the sunlight streaming from the open curtains. Yuki’s exhales are still shaky, but for the first time, he can breathe freely. He can almost see the dark, heavy air clearing away, as if from the mere presence of this person. An angel… an angel came down to save him.
Wait… no?
“Ah, Momo,” he mumbles groggily, reaching out to touch Momo’s hair. It’s fluffy like a cloud, smelling of shampoo. Momo automatically leans into his hand. “I thought you were an angel…”
Momo stares for a second, his cheeks growing red, before bursting into sheepish laughter. Tension drains from his shoulders. “Yuki, how do you always - you total hunk, you! Hey, what are you doing? Come on, I just made breakfast!”
But Yuki has already locked his arms around Momo’s back, keeping him from standing up straight. If Momo really wanted to break free, he could do so easily, but he decides to play along.
“Aw, you’ve caught me,” Momo sighs, his lips stretching into a grin. “You must be tired from that nightmare, hm? I didn’t get that much sleep either, so I guess a little more won’t hurt. Darling, make room.”
“Nnnn…”
“I can’t understand you with your face in my shirt,” Momo laughs. “Fine, I’ll make room myself. One could think you like when I do this...”
Effortlessly moved to the side of the bed, where the sheets are colder and more fresh, Yuki almost purrs in satisfaction. He clings to Momo like an octopus, making his job harder, but unable to help himself. Of course he likes it; who wouldn’t like being held in Momo’s arms? Under his touch, the sludgy sensation of the nightmare clinging to Yuki’s skin disappears without a trace, replaced by a funny sort of tingling. Momo arranges them with Yuki’s head on his shoulder and drops a kiss on Yuki’s forehead.
“Sorry for leaving you with it,” he whispers, giggling softly when Yuki’s nose tickles his collarbone. “You were sleeping so soundly when I woke up. But now that Momo-chan is here, there’s nothing to be afraid of!”
Yuki wants to reply, “I know,” but he’s already nodding off, warm and safe.
He wakes up to careful fingers untangling his hair, combing through and smoothing it down. Soft kisses land all over his face; his eyelids, his nose, left cheek - right cheek next? He wonders, but the kisses are spontaneous, without a pattern. Momo’s lips tickle tickle his ear, and then his jaw, before brushing against the beauty mark under his eye and pressing between his eyebrows.
Yuki plans to fake sleep until Momo gets to his mouth, but Momo only puts a finger over Yuki’s lips and says,
“Nuh-uh. That’s a reward for eating breakfast.”
Yuki licks the finger, causing Momo to yelp in surprise. Yuki is very interested in that sound. Suddenly, he’s much more awake.
“Where’s that breakfast,” Yuki croaks out, pushing himself up. Now, he’s on a mission. The determination must be showing on his face, because the moment their eyes meet again Momo bursts into laughter. With his cheeks a rosy pink and his hair mussed from sleep, eyes crinkling in mirth, he seems to be surrounded by a soft glow.
My angel.
“We need to reheat the food, first,” Momo says, rolling off the bed. “Okay, race you!”
Despite getting a late start on the day, Momo is in remarkably high spirits, so much that it’s infectious. Yuki isn’t sure how much of it is him getting enough sleep, for once, and how much not wanting to ruin their rare day off together, but Yuki finds himself chasing without much thought . The two of them painfully knock heads trying to get into the bathroom at the same time, but Momo bounces back without any complaint. Brushing teeth, side by side at Yuki’s sink, also turns into a contest; when they wash their faces, Momo starts a water fight splashing Yuki by “accident”, a devilish smirk hinting that it was most definitely not. Yuki retaliates in earnest, until the floor is covered in puddles they have to jump between to not get the water all over the rest of the apartment. “Dance training!” Momo cheers, striking a pose once he makes it outside with his feet dry. Distracted by the spectacle, Yuki trips and slides forward, but Momo catches him and twirls him around, as is they were really about to start dancing right there. Just like that, the memory of the nightmare is gone from Yuki’s mind.
Not wanting to lose, Yuki takes Momo for a spin around the coffee table, leading with confidence that makes Momo squeal in delight. Yuki is about to dip him back when both of their stomachs growl in near perfect harmon, ruining the atmosphere.
Once each of them has a full plate, it’s as if they were still in the tiny apartment they used to share, with cracks all over the walls that let in the chill, and not Yuki’s place with perfectly working heating and a lot of space to comfortably sit apart. Momo makes it difficult for Yuki to eat, taking one of his arms hostage and curling into his side, but Yuki would be lying if he said he really minds. For once, Momo doesn’t fidget as much as if sitting down for a meal with Yuki was too much to handle, doesn’t reach for the TV remote, even though there should be a show Re:vale guested on starting soon. What’s even more unusual, judging from the silence that would usually be filled with notification sounds, Momo doesn’t even have his phone on him. Yuki hazily recalls seeing it on the bedside table, plugged in. He shakes his head in disbelief. Momo talks between bites of toast, about everything and nothing; how, before he went to wake Yuki up, he beat his own record in a video game, how there’s a new cat at the cafe Momo brings Tenn-kun to, how a friend that works at a music store send him pictures of a special Re:vale display the shop did for their birthdays, how Momo ran into the director of Yuki’s last feature -
Here, Momo’s tone turns from light to… complicated. There’s enough pride in his voice to fill Yuki’s chest with warmth, and yet, as Momo repeats all of the director’s praise, he starts speaking slower, his words gaining a slight darker edge. When, confused, Yuki tries to meet his eyes, he finds Momo avoiding his gaze, his cheeks puffed up.
Ah . I practically lived on set for days, haven’t I?
Transfixed once again by color coming out onto Momo’s cheeks, Yuki wonders if Momo doting on him today was really only for Yuki’s own benefit.
“Momo, look at me.”
With a short, shy glance that makes Yuki’s heart flutter like mad, Momo’s grip on his arm lessens, allowing him to pull free. He takes Momo’s face into his hands.
“Momo. Fooooh.”
For just a moment, Momo’s frown deepens, but when Yuki pokes his puffed up cheeks with two fingers, he obediently blows all the air out.
“It’s just a movie,” Yuki says, returning the forehead kiss from earlier. “The viewers get the pictures. The actors on set get the actor me. But you get the real thing.”
He’s rewarded with a small, adorable smile that resembles one of those cat-mouth emojis. Yuki didn’t think it possible to make that face i real life, but if anyone could, it would be Momo - and he decides to make even more of a lethal impression by bopping his nose against Yuki’s.
“Aren’t I so lucky?”
Without thinking, Yuki brings their lips together. He feels Momo’s face grow hot under his hands. His fingers tangle into Momo’s hair, drawing out a soft whimper.
“ I’m lucky.”
Momo’s expression is somewhere between flustered and deeply offended. Yuki tilts his head, watching it from different angles.
“N-no,” Momo protests, “you can’t just, and then, that’s not fair! Yuki, you sly - !“
“Momo, aaah - “ Unceremoniously, Yuki pops a mini tomato into Momo’s mouth, shutting him up. “Eat your vegetables. Aren’t they juicy?”
“Mnhh… They are! How did you grow these in the winter? Are you a genius, or what? But wait, I was saying!”
“Aaah - Momo, look, the tomatoes are the color of your face~”
With Yuki refusing to show up for most of the argument, but helping Momo get a headway on his daily vegetable consumption, Momo resorts to dragging him towards the video game controllers.
“It’s just not the same to play it my own…”
“You know I’m no good at the games you like,” Yuki sighs, “I won’t even be good target practice.”
“It’s not that kind of game! Not really. You just jump and get around obstacle courses and enemies, but there’s no blood, sometimes collect stuff… It’s like an adventure! You just need some reflex!“
“Reflexes? Momo, why does that sound horrendously difficult?”
“It’s not! Maybe for a regular person, but you’re an idol, you’ll do just fine!”
Yuki sighs. He has the best intentions, he really does, but his cooperativeness is just so terribly hampered by not getting that promised kiss...
Momo’s eyes widen at the mention.
“But, just now?”
“We didn’t say it was that one,” Yuki says, keeping a straight face despite knowing well how childish he sounds. “And it was me who kissed you, so it doesn’t count. It’s important to be meticulous, Momo. That’s how you get ahead in the show business.”
Momo’s eyebrow twitches. Yuki watches him push past embarrassment; though his face is still red, a dangerous fire is lit in his eyes. A devious smile spreads across his face.
“Oooh, is that so? Come here,” Momo throws his arms around Yuki’s neck, pulling him down. The depth of his voice sends a shiver down Yuki’s spine. “Let me show you some work ethic!”
And that’s how, a few minutes later, Yuki ends up in front of the TV with Momo seated between his legs and leaning against his chest, starting up the game, and the other controller in his own hands. Yuki’s mouth is sore. His mind is a bit blank. He might’ve agreed to play at some point, or might’ve simply had no option of refusing.
Oh, well. December is supposed to be his Appreciation Month again, but Yuki has already quietly designated today as Momo’s day. With their packed schedules, November went by so quickly, and the train of holiday releases was only going to pick up; there simply wasn’t enough time. In Yuki’s mind, every day in the calendar is Momo’s Appreciation Day, but it’s easier when Momo just takes it at face value, when there’s some kind of excuse that means he doesn’t have to to second guess the affection. Today, for once, Momo isn’t suspicious. Yuki can only make the most of it.
“Hey, Darling?” Momo chirps, fiddling with the settings, “Let’s make this more fun!”
Yuki rests his chin on top of Momo’s head. “Hmm?”
“If you win, I’m going to spoil you for the rest of the day!”
“And if you win?”
“You’ll… let me take you out?” The hopeful, upwards note tugs at Yuki’s heartstrings. “There’s this cool place....”
“Alright.”
“Really? Just like that? Darling, is this really you?”
‘You hurt my feelings, Momo. Would you not have recognized an imposter before he opened his mouth? I… like doing things together, with you. I might’ve - refused you too much, lately.”
Momo twists around to meet his eyes. “Not at all! My head’s still spinning from November! You were so sweet - “
“You don’t have to thank me. Just, pick an doable level for me, honey?”
Momo looks at the controller in his hands as if he forgot it was there for a moment. “Ah, sure, I’ll try!”
If they ever meet, Yuki will have a few choice words for the person who created this game. The funny little man he plays as is as bouncy as a rubber ball, but the jumps are hard to control, the character sliding off platforms and falling into traps. What’s worse, the game seems to have a very original idea about physics and what is actually doable for a human being. Listening to Momo discuss games with others, keywords such as good physics came up a lot, so the confusing mess on their split screen. Next to him, Momo twirls, front flips through the air and never misses a single jump, but still finds the time to cheer on Yuki whenever he manages to get through a section of a level. They’re supposed to race, but the only reason there is any kind of competition is because Momo stops so often to see how Yuki is doing; once, he even waits for him to catch up to demonstrate how to go forward.
Even though his progress is so slow, with Momo’s prase, going through the game starts being somewhat enjoyable. He’s the “praise me, and I’ll grow” type, after all. By the time time they get to the end of the level, Yuki hears less and less beeping sound effects for failure; his grip on the controller becomes more confident, too.
“Okay, darling, you win! Now, what do you…?”
“Wait.” Yuki keeps his eyes fixed on the screen. “One more.”
“Yuki?”
“Race me seriously. I’m your partner, aren’t I? Believe in me more, Momo. I can do this.”
He loses, obviously, but the excitement radiating off Momo as he darts through the platforms with Yuki at his heels is enough reward. From observing Momo play the game casually, Yuki has learned a bit of a flourish that Momo in turn abandoned while charging ahead, cool and precise. It’s almost as if they were on stage.
Momo lets Yuki ruffle his hair, but suddenly, falls oddly quiet. Putting the controller aside, Yuki embraces him from behind and nuzzles against Momo’s cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
Momo shakes his head minutely. Yuki wraps his arms tighter around his front, the silent message being, “Not letting you go until you say.” It’s a method he picked up from Momo himself.
“...You know I’m not looking down on you, right?”
“I know,” Yuki replies instantly. Not expecting it, Momo stumbles over his words.
“I didn’t - It’s not because you had bad dreams, or anything! I just wanted you to have fun!”
“I did. I don’t have to win to have fun, Momo,” Yuki laughs, “I’m not a baby.”
Momo huffs in indignation, puffing up his cheeks again. Yuki tips his face more towards his own and kisses that stubbornly set mouth until it relaxes, Momo’s lips parting.
“An extra reward for the winner. Now, where are you taking me?”
Outside, Momo leads him from one shop window to the next, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the displays he hardly has time or the opportunity to appreciate unnoticed. “Look, Chrismas decorations! Yuki, aren’t you excited? Wow, this is so intricate - and this angel plushie is so cute!” Momo’s beaming smile is covered by a face mask, but he smiles with his whole body; even the tips of his hair seem to curl upward from under his beanie. He waves their joined hands to and fro through the air, as if they really were little kids on a stroll. When the street becomes busier, Yuki pulls Momo’s hand into the deep pocket of his coat, borrowing an idea from a romantic movie Gaku-kun told him to watch “for research purposes”.
“To keep you warm,” he explains. Momo’s palm indeed grows warmer.
Their destination, unexpectedly, turns out to be a nearby arcade, housing not only games, but a whole assortment of claw machines as well. Filled to the brim with adorable, round plushies, every kind of merch you can imagine, the sight alone is enough to make Yuki’s head spin. Momo, however, makes a beeline for two ufo catchers surrounded by colorful signs. Walking up closer, Yuki recognizes himself and Momo - and sure enough, the inside is filled by chibi Re:vale plushies.
A scenario flag like from a galge pop ups in Yuki’s head. Isn’t the arcade a classic date spot? Then, what he’s supposed to do is probably…
“Would you like me to win one for you?”
Momo stops himself from yelling out his name; the “ikemeee~n” comes out as a strained whisper. Yuki takes that as a yes.
“But… Win one for me, too?”
“Sure, darling!”
Soon, Momo has already fished out a small warmly dressed Yuki plushie. He stands behind the real Yuki, holding up the plushie to stand and dance on his shoulder, and cheers in a thin voice. “Go, go! Momo-chan is counting on you!” With that kind of motivation, it’s only a matter of time before an adorable tiny Momo joins them too.
Yuki doesn’t expect the human Momo to take his hand as soon as he fishes out the plushie and lead him towards a staff member, showing off their plushies. He’s still confused as they go deeper into the arcade, past the crowded, noisy section with the game machines - Yuki intertwines their fingers to not lose Momo, holding his face-mask in place with the other hand - and then, past a door -
A secret cafe?
“Surprise!”
For a room inside an arcade building, the mini cafe is remarkably cozy and free of the deafening noises from the machines, though there’s a low buzz of conversations from the other patrons, mostly women. The music that flows from the speakers is… A playlist of Re:vale’s slower songs?
Looking around, Yuki spots pink and green decorations put up here and there, as well as some pictures, though not so many that his own face would be looking down on him from every wall. Most of the decor looks like it could be easily switched for something else; this cafe is probably a time-limited promotion. Though Yuki can’t help feeling somewhat anxious about getting recognized, he has to smile when Momo points to the menu board, where some talented worker drew their portraits.
“Momo, why haven’t I heard about this?”
“Sorry, darling!”Momo whispers, close to his ear, “Okarin told me a few days ago, but I asked him to keep it from you so it could be a surprise! It’s just a small local thing, for our birthdays.”
“This isn’t an official visit, correct?” Yuki whispers back, “We won’t have to sign autographs?”
Momo shakes his head. “That’s why we had to win those plushies. You can enter only if you win something from the ufo-catchers! If we asked, they’d have given us samples, but I wanted us to come here as ordinary people.”
Yuki’s heart grows three sizes. Suddenly, the cafe feels much warmer.
“That means we’re going to have to pay for our orders, though - you don’t mind, right?”
“Of course not.”
As they wait for their orders - there’s even some healthy choices on the menu, to Yuki’s delight, - Momo tells him about other attractions that can be found at the arcade. “You have to try the rhythm games,” he insists, “They have Re:vale songs! You composed them, no one knows every note better than you!”. Suddenly, he leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, “Yuki, look at that girl!”
“Momo, it’s rude to stare… The one with a Re:vale headband?”
Momo nods. “Look what she’s doing!”
The fan’s food has just arrived, but instead of digging in, she carefully arranges her merch around the plate. With a smartphone in what looks like a custom-made Re:vale case, she starts snapping pictures, sometimes adjusting something with her long, manicured fingers. The way she touches the merch is very delicate.
“Isn’t that cute?” Momo gushes. “I saw fans post pictures like these on social media, and I thought it’s things they just bought, but it seems some fans bring out merch they already hae for a walk! Aren’t our fans lovely?”
“Let’’s do that too.”
Leaning the plushies against the just brought glasses, with a menu leaflet as a prop, Yuki creates a little scene. Just as Momo is about to take the picture, Yuki bumps the heads of the plushies together in a kiss.
Momo kicks him lightly under the table, laughing happily.