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Of course it had to be Ryuya that saw them.
Syo had always been so careful, always making sure that he would never be caught. It wasn’t difficult, all things considered. Natsuki made it easy. If he were anyone else, they wouldn’t have been able to get away with half the things they did. Natsuki had such a tendency to toss himself at anyone he deemed cute enough, to kiss cheeks and hold hands with any friend who might tolerate it, to confess adoration whenever his heart deemed someone talented or beautiful enough. For him to cling to Syo had never been an issue.
Dinner had been fine. Even at such a nice restaurant, with such a recognizable group and so many eyes on them, it was alright for Natsuki to smile too brightly and laugh too loudly when Syo spoke. It was alright for him to lean into Syo’s side, pull his arm over his shoulders, to attach himself to the man. No one would think twice. Natsuki loved his best friend-- he loved all of his bandmates.
It was Syo’s fault, really. He was the one who had been shaken when Natsuki leaned in close, whispering in his ear that they should go, that he couldn’t wait much longer to kiss him. As much as Syo considered himself to be the more levelheaded of them, there was only so much he could do with Natsuki’s low voice, with his lips brushing ever so gently against the shell of his ear as he spoke.
The walk back to the dorms was quick. Even in crowded streets, Natsuki’s hand on his wasn’t really an issue. They could get away with that much. Unless the two of them were caught with tongues down each other’s throats, Syo was certain no one would think much of him allowing Natsuki’s ever-present affection.
Perhaps it was the champagne. Perhaps it was that he was too used to getting away with everything they did. Perhaps the thought of Natsuki’s smile against his ear, the way his teeth ever so gently grazed over his skin, was making him stupid. Syo didn’t pay attention to the surrounding area when they made it to the dorm hallway. They were only meters from their door-- they could have waited, just to be safe. But what were the chances of anyone making it here so quickly after them? Everyone else had intended to stay behind and have a few more drinks, and it wasn’t likely anyone else would come through this way.
Syo abandoned his grip on Natsuki’s hand, instead grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer and stepping backward until his shoulders hit the wall behind them. It wasn’t dignified. It wasn’t all that manly. But being pressed between the wall and Natsuki’s large frame, lips crashing together with need and desperation after such a long day, was all that Syo could have wanted in that moment.
Over the sound of Natsuki’s soft whines as Syo’s hands moved over his shoulders, over his waist, over the curve of his ass to grip him and pull him closer, the sound of footsteps in the adjacent corridor didn’t register.
It wasn’t until he saw the familiar tuft of orange hair that Syo froze. Shit .
The look on the man’s face was indiscernible. His brows narrowed as he took in the image of Syo, pressed to a wall with Natsuki’s large form draped over him, and he shook his head, turning back to the hall from which he’d appeared. Syo didn’t know whether to run after him and try to explain, or to simply shrink into himself and hope that he would crumble into dust and never have to think about this again.
He hushed Natsuki’s hurried attempts to apologize. It wasn’t his fault. Syo was the one who always thought twice when Natsuki rushed into things. It was his job to ensure that they were somewhere safe before he let the man go wild. He didn’t say any of that out loud, but promised it would be alright. It wasn’t the best promise-- it was one he knew he couldn’t keep. If Ryuya talked to Shining… Syo sighed, and led Natsuki toward their dorm. It wasn’t worth thinking about that yet.
The mood had been killed easily, and as they fell into bed, it wasn’t with fumbling hands and laughter, but silently and heavily. At least Natsuki was able to fall asleep. He was always good at finding rest, even with things weighing on his mind. Syo pulled the glasses from his face, delicately setting them on the bedside table. Like this, he should be able to remain asleep. While nightmares would often manage to wake him, if he woke up as someone else, someone a bit stronger, he wouldn’t be so panicked.
Syo settled into his place against Natsuki’s chest, and was grateful for the arm the man placed over his waist, the warmth and weight keeping Syo grounded. Even if he couldn’t rest well, it was comforting.
He just wished it had been anyone else. He had disappointed Ai plenty of times, and while it wouldn’t feel good to see him annoyed with them, Syo was at least used to it. Ranmaru and Reiji might have been annoyed, but he doubted they were the type to do much but tease. And if it had been Camus, Syo was so numb to hearing him drone on with critique and criticism that it wouldn’t have meant anything. If it were Shining, even, it would have been better. They’d have known instantly exactly what the consequences of their actions would be, instead of sitting here with the dread in his stomach.
But it had to be Ryuya. Ryuya, who Syo had looked up to for so many years, who had taught him everything he knew, who Syo had always done his best to make proud. Living up to the man’s expectations for him had always been his focus. That look in eyes, so unreadable, the furrow of his brow… They would have to deal with this eventually. His mentor would have to tell him off, would have to explain exactly what was going to happen. There was no way around it. He would have to explain himself.
Syo closed his eyes. Staring at the wall had done little to help him sleep, but every time he let his eyelids fall shut, he just saw that shaking head of disapproval again. Shit.
The arms around Syo’s waist tightened, pulling him closer, almost as if Natsuki were trying to ease him from his stress even as he slept. It was sweet. As much as Syo liked to think he was the unshakable rock between the two of them, Natsuki was always so in tune with both of their feelings that it was almost unreal.
The grip around him tightened further, and Syo winced as he was held to the man’s chest in a vice. It was too hard a touch, too strong a hold. “Satsuki, let go,” he managed with a groan. It was always easy to tell when that switch happened, even in the dark of night. Despite his strength, Natsuki didn’t touch him like that. He didn’t grasp him to the point of real pain.
The pressure lessened, and for a moment, it was quiet. Syo regained his breath, just laying there, now fully aware of the weight of the muscular arm that was tossed over his side. It wasn’t often the Satsuki woke up in the middle of the night. Natsuki was prone to nightmares, but with his glasses removed and placed safely on the bedside table, Satsuki could almost always sleep through the night. If he was up, it must have gotten bad.
“Are you alright?” Syo asked. Years ago, maybe he would have snapped at him, demanded to know why he felt the need to crush Syo’s ribs. But he knew better than that by now. Arguing had never gotten them anywhere, and if Satsuki was there, they had bigger issues than the man’s tendency to hold too tightly. Syo still didn’t move, back pressed into the man’s chest. He had spent a long time running from Satsuki, always pulling away the moment the man appeared, but he was trying . Arguments had never helped them, and he was sure pushing him away couldn’t be all that productive either.
“His nightmares are bad tonight. You need to take care of this.” His voice was lower than Natsuki’s, more of a growl then the man himself could usually muster. His tone was so stern.
“I will,” Syo promised. If it had been Natsuki, he was sure he would have taken his hand, squeezed it tight, and tried more to reassure him. But even as he lay with Satsuki, skin pressed against skin, the same body that he had shown love so many times before, it was difficult for him to feel anything but some uncomfortable mixture of vulnerability and guilt. If Satsuki was here, wanting to talk, he needed help to solve the problem that had brought him forth, and if Syo needed to be the solution, he was more than likely also the cause. This time, it had been his own negligence that ruined the night.
“How are you going to fix it?”
Syo sighed, and turned over, finding himself face to face with the man. His features looked so much sharper like this, and the moonlight slipping through the curtains only served to accentuate that. “I’ll talk with Ryuya in the morning. Natsuki doesn’t need to worry about it.”
“And if there are consequences?”
“They’re mine to bear. He didn’t do anything wrong. I messed up. I didn’t think.” A sharp pinch to his side made him yelp. “Hey--!”
“You’re still not thinking. It isn’t getting caught that’s the problem. It’s you two being together. If he takes that to Shining, the old bastard’s going to put an end to this.” Satsuki gestured vaguely between the two of them. “How do you get out of that?”
Syo sat up, running a hand through his hair. Satsuki’s arm didn’t leave him completely, instead resting in its new place on his legs. This was going to be more difficult than he’d expected. Sure, Satsuki was right. Syo just wished he wasn’t. “I really don’t think Ryuya would go to Shining without talking to me first.”
“You’re putting too much trust in him,” Satsuki snapped, quickly rising to sit beside him. The difference in their height never really made Syo feel small when it was Natsuki, but the raised voice and furrowed brow that came with Satsuki certainly did.
“You don’t trust anyone. You’re not exactly the best judge there.” Syo sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. He knew that he was putting a lot of faith in the man, but… It wasn’t as if Ryuya had never covered for him before. He’d gone out of his way to help when Syo fell behind on classwork, took time to help him with songs, had always been there even if Syo just needed to complain and get things off his chest while they took turns throwing punches at the gym.
“I trust some people.” The words were quick and laced with defensiveness.
Syo nodded. That was true, he supposed. Satsuki had always been good with Haruka, and though Syo would argue Natsuki didn’t necessarily count, Satsuki did trust him. “Then let me ask you to trust me, just this once.” Syo reached for his phone, and pulled up his conversations with Ryuya.
[11:34pm] Syo: Hey. Can we talk tomorrow? I really don’t want things to be awkward.
[11:34pm] Sensei 💪: Yes. Coffee in my office before I have to head out for an early shoot. Don’t worry about it. Consider it between us.
“There,” Syo said, tilting the phone toward the man beside him. “I know it’s not solved, but… Believe me when I tell you he won’t take it to Shining. Not without talking to me.”
Satsuki sighed, and nodded. “If you’re wrong, I’m kicking your ass.”
Syo sat his phone back on the table, and couldn’t help but laugh. “You haven’t actually tried to beat me up since we were kids,” he said, settling himself back into bed, resting his head on the pillow.
It didn’t take long for Satsuki to reposition himself, pressing his body against Syo’s, arms wrapping around him. It wasn’t the first time he had taken it upon himself to hold Syo--it would comfort Natsuki to be holding him when they woke--but it still came as a bit of a surprise, especially when he was that gentle. “Didn’t seem fair to try after you got sick. You’re special to him. I didn’t want you to actually get hurt.” Satsuki paused for a moment, as if there were more he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words. When he settled on them, he said, “He’d be upset if you got hurt.”
Syo quirked a brow. The way the man spoke was almost disjointed. He was used to the slight discomfort that could come from listening to Satsuki speak in a voice that belonged to his best friend, to feeling the harder touch of a body he thought he knew so well. The disconnect between Satsuki and Natsuki was something he had long since adjusted to. He was used to the distinction. He could tell the two apart in his sleep, just from hearing or feeling them. But he didn’t push it. There was something different in the man’s voice tonight, but Syo knew bothering him about it wouldn’t end well. “Well, thanks for that,” he said, offering a smile the other couldn’t see. “We’ll all figure this out, alright? In the morning.”
“Yeah,” Satsuki said. It was so soft that it sounded almost sweet, so close to Natsuki.
“Night.”
He didn’t get a response. But, then again, he didn’t expect one.
“Who knows?” Those two words greeted Syo abruptly as he stepped into the office a few stories above his own dorm. It was so early. The sun had just begun to rise, and Natsuki was still fast asleep. To answer questions while he was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes wasn’t ideal, but Syo understood their urgency.
He approached the chair across from Ryuya’s desk. The man was already dressed for the day, tie and hair perfectly done. Syo must have looked like a mess in comparison. He sat, taking a breath. “Not many people. Our families. Ren, and maybe Hijirikawa?” He had never said anything, but Masato was perceptive enough that Syo got the feeling he’d picked up on this by now.
Ryuya nodded, and passed a mug of black coffee across to him. When Syo took the ceramic in his hands, Ryuya assured, “It’s decaf. I know you can’t have much caffeine.” Right. Ryuya always remembered little stuff like that. “So. You’ve kept it under wraps to the point that half your own band doesn’t know.”
Syo took a drink, and then nodded. “Yeah. I-- Last night, I was stupid. I didn’t think about it. Please don’t blame Natsuki for this. He--”
“Syo. You aren’t in trouble. Neither of you are. I’m not going to Shining or anything. Even if I did, I can promise you he wouldn’t do anything except be weird, and that’s no different from usual.” Ryuya looked tired as he spoke, but he didn’t look angry. “I’ve been married for three years.”
Syo blinked, looking at him with his mouth ever so slightly ajar. “I didn’t know that,” he admitted.
“That’s on purpose. I’m not going to get mad at you for doing the same thing half the industry has done. You fall for someone and you act on that. It’s not a crime. You just have to be… Syo, you have to be so careful.”
Syo glanced down. At least he wasn’t mad. He was sure that he wouldn’t know how to handle Ryuya being disappointed in him. “I usually am. I just-- I thought it would be alright there.”
“I know. You’re young and you’re still figuring out the rules of this whole thing. You gotta know the limits, and you don’t know them sometimes until you push it too far. You’ve got a lot of leeway because Shinomiya is who he is. But you need to use your head. Unless you’re sure no one can get in where you are, don’t test it.” Ryuya sighed, rubbing at his temple. “You’re lucky it was me.”
“Thank you for… not being angry about it.” That had been the part Syo feared most, more than he worried about Shining, really. “Can I ask you something annoying?”
Ryuya laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Go for it, kid.”
“Hiding like that, and having everything be so… hard , are you and your wife still happy?”
“Husband,” Ryuya corrected, raising a finger. “And yeah. Every love is different. Sometimes there are limits you put there yourself, things you can’t do because of your own shit. And sometimes there are limits other people put there for you. It sucks, but… if your relationship is one that can still thrive within the limits you have, then you’ll be fine. If you dedicate yourselves to one another and work through the issues as they come, you’re golden.” Ryuya smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. “It can be hard when you’re both idols. I’ve had students who get really, really hurt because of the stress it placed on them. But Ringo and I made our peace with it all early on. When it gets hard, we figure it out together.”
Syo blinked. It was Ringo, then. He had never thought that the two were anything other than coworkers. That was by design, then. “That… makes me feel a lot better.”
“Good. It’s supposed to. But remember. You need to be careful. I’ve seen too many of my favorite students get hurt when love was too hard. I don’t want to see it happen to you, too. You and Shinomiya are really good kids.”
Syo nodded quickly. “Thank you. We will, I promise. I won’t let you down.”
Ryuya smiled. “Good. You never have before.”
“Syo-chan?” Natsuki sounded so tired as Syo returned to their room, like he’d only just woken up. Syo supposed it was still early-- they didn’t need to be ready for interviews until early afternoon. “Where’d you go?” he asked, shifting in bed. The warmth of the early morning light fell like gold onto his hair and caught on the lenses of his glasses.
Syo shrugged off his hoodie, falling back into place beside him. “Hey. I’m here,” he soothed, one hand moving gently to the man’s cheek. “Sorry if I worried you. I went to talk to Ryuya. I didn’t wanna make you up if I didn’t have to. Kinda seemed like you had a hard night.”
Natsuki frowned for a second, even as his hand moved to rest on top of Syo’s. “I don’t remember any bad dreams.” After a short pause, he asked, “Did… Did he take care of it?”
Syo leaned forward to press his lips against the man’s forehead. “Yeah. But don’t worry. He was nice enough. He was just worried about you.” It had always been like this. At least, as long as Natsuki had been aware of Satsuki. When they were kids, it was something Syo had endured alone, promising not to tell Natsuki-- Satsuki had insisted that knowing about his existence would only upset him. When he was older, when things became more clear to him, he had been so… He seemed almost embarrassed.
“What about Ryuya? Are we in trouble?” The nervousness in his voice made Syo’s heart sink.
“No. No, we’re alright,” he said, leaning up to place another kiss on the man’s temple. “We just need to be careful, you know? What happens behind closed doors is our business. We just need to use caution when we’re not at home.”
At that, Natsuki’s shoulders seemed to relax, as if they’d been holding tension for ages. He pulled his arms around Syo, burying his face in the man’s chest, and Syo couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you for talking to him. And… I’m sorry about him showing up.”
“Hey,” Syo said. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault. Besides, he was kinda helpful.” It wasn’t the first time Satsuki had been the one to spur him on to solve problems that were bugging Natsuki. And over the years, his tactics had gotten a lot better-- less yelling, more… strategic conversation. “Hey,” Syo repeated, pulling away just a bit, using the hand that had made its home on Natsuki’s cheek to tilt his gaze up toward him. “I think I still owe you some kisses from last night.”
Natsuki beamed instantly, and Syo knew the worry was finally, truly gone from his mind.
The day was long, but it was good. A lazy morning spent mostly in bed, stealing kisses and teasing; an afternoon on set with Starish, laughing at every stupid joke, everyone just… perfectly in sync for once; an evening with a dinner he’d insisted on making without help, a good hour spent cuddled up to one another before Natsuki drifted off.
Syo lay there, his hand over Natsuki’s, which had settled so carefully over Syo’s heart, fingers brushing over the long-faded scars on his skin. He let out a soft sigh, a smile still on his lips when there was no one there to see it. Everything felt so easy today. Natsuki had seemed so happy, so cheerful, not even a shadow of last night’s anxiety to be seen.
It came as a surprise when the hand on his chest grasped tighter, and for a moment, he assumed it was Natsuki making a tired attempt at getting him riled up. But as dull nails dug into his skin, he winced. “Careful, that hurts,” he murmured, voice steady. The grip loosened instantly, and he let out a relieved breath. It had been such a good day. Was Natsuki really still nervous enough for the nightmares to hit him again? It had to be rough for Satsuki to wake from them, and rougher still if he needed to make Syo aware. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s scared.” Satsuki paused, fingertips gently ghosting over the place where he’d gripped too tight, almost soothing. It wasn’t like him to be so gentle. “It’s not your fault.”
Syo furrowed his brow, and rolled over in the man’s arms, coming face to face with him, perhaps a bit too close. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked. If he wasn’t the source of the issue, it wasn’t normal for Satsuki to go to him, but… if he could help in some way, he would.
Satsuki huffed. He didn’t look angry, just frustrated, his eyebrows pulled taught and his teeth clenched together. “It’s me.” He sighed, meeting Syo’s eyes. “He hates me. He knows you hate me, and he can’t stand that.”
Syo froze. He wasn’t sure if he was more surprised by the vulnerability in his voice or the words themselves. “Satsuki,” he said, name barely a whisper on his lips. “Look at me. Does he… Do you really think I hate you?”
Satsuki stared blankly at him, as if the cogs in his head weren’t quite turning. “You love Natsuki. And I’m everything he isn’t.”
Syo sighed. “I don’t know if it’s how you see it, but you and Natsuki aren’t really separate, yeah? You’re a piece of him. I mean, you’re you, but you’re also part of him.” He reached up, running a hand through the man’s hair. Satsuki stiffened. Syo probably should have expected that. This wasn’t very… them . “I love him. All of him. That includes you.” It felt weird to say out loud, but it wasn’t a lie.
Satsuki’s eyes fell shut. “Stop.”
Syo frowned, and pulled his hand away, letting it hover just above Satsuki’s head, not making contact. “Can I ask you something?” When he got no response, he went ahead. “How much of that worry is him and how much is you?”
Satsuki remained silent.
“It’s both of you, right?”
“Yeah.” His voice was barely a whisper.
Syo returned his hand to the man’s hair, threading his fingers through it. It wasn’t easy to talk to Satsuki. He was harder to handle, just as sensitive as Natsuki, but in such different ways. Finding the right words was a struggle, even when he wasn’t dealing with such a delicate subject.
“You were always so afraid of me before.”
“I was a kid,” Syo said. “I knew my best friend was dealing with something hard, and I knew you lashed out, and that was hard when we were little. But you were just as scared.” He twirled a curl between his fingers, watching the way the moonlight shone against it. This body was so familiar. He knew every part of it as if it were his own, and yet it felt like touching something entirely new now. “I don’t blame you for that.”
“You don’t hate me.”
“I really, really don’t,” Syo said. “I know you and I don’t really do feelings like I do with Natsuki, but if you ever need me or anything, I’m here for you, yeah? We don’t need to figure out everything in one night, but just know I’m right here.”
Satsuki didn’t speak, and for a moment, Syo wondered if he’d thrown too much at him at once. It was all true-- he did care about the man, enough that he was willing to put up with the harsh touches and rough tones. As a piece of Natsuki, and as an individual, and as the complicated mix of those two things, he cared. Satsuki had always wanted nothing more than to protect Natsuki, to be sure he was happy and safe. Syo couldn’t blame him for going to extremes sometimes because of that. After all, he was made up of fears and one man’s deepest hurt. Yet, despite what he was created from, he was still so soft at times. He listened when Syo told him to ease up. He took such tender care of Natsuki, of his borrowed body. There was no room for hate between them, not after all these years.
Satsuki rolled over, turning his back to Syo. After a short silence passed, he murmured, “You hold him a lot.”
For a second, Syo didn’t make the connection between what was spoken and what was left unsaid, but after a moment, it clicked. Can you do that for me, too? He didn’t speak, but moved closer, pulling Satsuki to his chest. He rested his hands on the man’s stomach, touch gentle, like he might break him if he was anything but delicate.
It wasn’t long before the rise and fall of his chest grew slower, and the quiet sounds of snoring filled the room. It was so different from when Natsuki fell asleep in his arms, but so the same. It was weird, and new, and Syo was so grateful to have the man there with him. He knew Natsuki was still insecure about this part of himself. He could understand that. Everyone had pieces of themselves they worried others wouldn’t tolerate.
Syo pressed a kiss to the man’s hair, still holding him tight.
In dreams, it was hard to tell which of them was which, to know who was in control. He supposed the kiss was for them both.
Maybe Satsuki was delicate, and maybe Natsuki was scared. It was confusing, and there were a thousand things they’d all need to sort out together. But that was how their lives would be no matter what, wasn’t it? Even if Satsuki weren’t there, even if Natsuki didn’t need to separate the piece of himself where he stored his anxieties, there would always be other things to complicate their life together. The ever-present eyes, the need for secrecy, the weight of other people’s happiness.
Maybe not everything was easy, but as Syo pressed one more kiss against the shoulderblade in front of him, it was a promise. No matter the limitations they needed to work within, they would still be side by side. As long as they were together, Syo was ready to face anything, even if it was Natsuki’s own fears, even if the man sometimes clung too tightly or they both fell too quickly into each other’s arms at the wrong time. They’d get past that. As long as they were together, the nightmares could always be loved away.