Work Text:
Tsukasa is one of those people that likes things neat and tidy. Rui remembers his room from the last time he visited, only a stray book or homework assignment on the floor. On the other hand, his room is the definition of an organized mess, politeness probably being the only reason Tsukasa hasn’t stood up and demanded they clean it up immediately.
“Tsukasa-kun,” Rui says, bumping his knee against his. They’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, papers strewn around. Tsukasa has his pencil tapping against his chin absentmindedly, gaze pinned on a math assignment. First, they were going over show ideas, now homework. “Have you finished?”
When he doesn’t respond, Rui taps his leg with his pencil. Tsukasa turns his head then eyes to face him, open and curious in a way that gets Rui’s breathing to stutter for a moment. Tsukasa tilts his head. “Oh, no. Still stuck on it. Why?”
Rui nods to the door. Tsukasa follows, and they’re silent save for the tell-tale pitter-patter against the rooftop. “Shit,” he mutters, and the swear nearly has Rui topple over. “When did it start raining?!”
“Five minutes ago.” He manages to compose himself in time for Tsukasa to give him a look of utter betrayal, then points it back to the door as if to curse Mother Nature. Right. The times Tsukasa swears are few and far in between yet they still throw him for a loop every time. “I checked the weather report. It’ll clear up by morning.”
“Morning?!” Maybe the mess of his room serves as some sort of sound insulation as the yell isn’t as deafening as it usually is. Tsukasa scrambles to collect his things, sending up a flurry of papers in his wake. Rui sneaks a glance at his computer screen—it’s late. “I should get going then—“
Rui stands up as Tsukasa steps past his boots and spare machinery. He has a hand on the knob of Rui’s door before he hits his face instead. “Gah! I forgot an umbrella!” He says, whirling on Rui.
“Ah.” Rui would search for one but that is a futile endeavor. Joining him at the door, it’s raining down heavily on the driveway, the pattering on the roof now pounding down. Distantly, he can make out the sound of thunder. “I don’t think an umbrella would do much with these conditions.” Tsukasa will end up drenched regardless.
“Then no matter! I’ll go without one!”
“No,” he says, shooting it down. If he gives him five minutes though, he could probably make something to keep him dry. “Tsukasa-kun, you’ll catch a cold like that.”
Tsukasa shakes his head, brushing it off. “This was an oversight on my part for not realizing it would rain. Besides, a little rain is nothing for a star—“
Thunder rumbles overhead. Tsukasa stiffens, his argument effectively silenced. The downpour hasn’t ceased at all and a few seconds pass before Rui speaks, turning away from the door and clearing off their work. “Are your parents and Saki waiting for you?” He asks.
He looks back to Tsukasa to catch him shaking his head. “They’re working. Saki’s at Ichika’s with the rest of the girls tonight.”
Oh. While it’s cute that he calls her friends that— “So it’s just you at your home?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Tsukasa doesn’t seem to find this out of the ordinary, staring at Rui. “Why?”
The papers he collected feel heavy in his hands. Rui sets them on his desk, still meeting Tsukasa’s gaze. In contrast, his parents are both home, but they haven’t formally met Tsukasa yet, only quick hellos and goodbyes before they disappear into his room. It’s not the first time he’s brought him over, though it is the first time he’s brought him alone, and he stares at the tug Tsukasa has on his schoolbag, the confident set of his shoulders, and lets the idea settle in his mind.
“If that’s the case, why…why don’t you stay here instead?”
Rui’s parents take a liking to him immediately. Rui folds his arms across his chest and leans against the entryway as Tsukasa politely answers each of their questions (“You and Rui are friends?” “How did you two meet?” “How’s work?”), surprisingly keeping his grand poses and yelling to a minimum. It must be out of courtesy for the neighbors, though Nene’s nothing if not used to it by now. The rain continues pouring with no sign of clearing whatsoever.
Once introductions are over, his parents wish them goodnight. Rui rummages through the linen cabinet and hands Tsukasa a spare towel, pointing down the hallway. “Bathroom’s on the right. You can use my shampoo and soap,” he says, then heads back to his room.
When Tsukasa returns, Rui finishes clearing the last of his spare sketches from the ground. His bed is neat while the couch is clear for the first time in probably months, and he's bringing in an extra pillow and blanket when a voice says, "Rui?"
"Done already, Tsukasa-kun?" If he was going to arrange them nicely, that's not happening now. Rui tosses the pillow and blanket onto the couch and turns.
Oh.
Among the many phrases Tsukasa declares every day, one that Rui recalls is how a star ought to look good in anything. Yet what he failed to calculate was those same words. Rui's slightly taller than him (eight centimeters, much to Tsukasa's dismay) and prefers his clothes a size up. Nothing too tight or restrictive and pajamas are about as loose and comfortable as an article of clothing can get so he was positive they'd fit Tsukasa.
And, well–they do. The sleeves are slightly longer on his frame but what Rui’s gaze lingers on is the way Tsukasa adjusts them, rolling the cuffs up and doing the same for the bottoms. He’s got the only matching set of pajamas Rui has, who’s in his own mismatched pieces. Tsukasa’s hair is damp, steam and warmth emanating from his body. He smells like his soap. He runs his fingers through his hair to brush all his bangs back, puffing out a breath.
“—found everything alright,” he registers Tsukasa saying, among the fog clouding his brain and vision. It’s most likely his vision. He’s been on Nene’s case for a bit for spending too much time on video games (although it’s not like he’s any better, staying up to brainstorm new ideas in dim lighting) and this must be its effects, Tsukasa flashing a smile bright and warm, fueled from his shower. Glasses and contacts don’t seem so bad though, compared to not being able to see this clearly. “Thank you again for lending me your clothes! They’re so comfy! I promise I’ll make it up to you!”
Rui waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. I invited you to stay, after all.” Tsukasa pauses, glancing around his room.
“You cleaned,” he says, surprise clear in his features. “You didn’t have to.”
“You give me too much credit.” He didn’t really. He gathered all the papers and spare machinery, got distracted looking at them (as they were quite promising ideas), realized Tsukasa would be done soon, and shoved them all into a drawer. They might never see the light of day again. Or maybe he’ll accidentally open it when looking for a pencil and get sidetracked once again. Such is life. “I just remembered you liked things nice and neat, that’s all.”
“Yes, but it’s your room.” Tsukasa flops onto the couch. He begins fluffing the pillow and pulls the blanket over his legs. “I didn’t mind. I like it. You’re our director–you’ve got to be at least this unconventional. With all the ideas you have, I’d be surprised if your room wasn’t messy.”
That’s–Rui blinks. Then chuckles, the irony of Tsukasa saying that to him. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling a flush making its way onto his face. “Speaking of, what are you doing on the couch?”
“Aren’t I going to sleep here?”
“Not there.” At Tsukasa’s confusion, he laughs. “It’s as you said. It’s my room. I actually sleep on my couch. The bed is all yours. Don’t worry, I replaced the covers.”
An indignant shriek. “I can’t take your bed!”
“You can. Sometimes I sleep at my desk, anyway.” Just this morning he started the day by raising his head off the table and stretching, neck and back sore. Too busy working to check the time.
“What?! That’s not good for you!”
“Regardless,” Rui raises a hand. “You would do the same if I were the one staying at your house,” he counters.
Tsukasa opens his mouth and closes it several times, stumbling over a response. He probably wouldn’t, but Rui knows he has him beat. Tsukasa’s bangs have fallen back to his forehead, and he’s back to how he normally looks minus Rui’s clothes. With a defeated sigh, he releases the blanket and sits up on the couch. “Fine.” He points a finger at Rui and declares, “But I will make it up to you! I’ll let you do one—no, two of your…other ideas! I’ll let you do the cannon, but nothing underwater!”
The cannon? The human cannon? Interesting. As for underwater, it seems he has yet to recover from the incident with the school’s swimming pool. Rui would say he can’t wait for next practice, but that means the night would end sooner. Grinning, he joins Tsukasa on the couch and leans some of his weight onto him. “Oh, Tsukasa-kun!” He places a hand over his heart, pretending to swoon. “You wound me! You wound this director! Don’t you know how vast the ocean is? There’s so much of it we haven’t discovered yet—the possibilities of what lies in its depths are endless! We could put on a show like no other!”
“Hey! You’re worse than Emu launching herself at me!” Tsukasa huffs, yet makes no move to push him off. It’s cramped on the couch, but he scoots over to allow more room for Rui. “Didn’t you say your water tank idea wouldn’t work out?!”
Rui tuts. “That was because we simply didn’t have enough water. Yet with this rainfall, I’m sure we’ll have more than enough for a proper—“
“Absolutely not!”
Laughing, they stay like that. Rui props up his feet on the arm of the couch while Tsukasa throws the blanket over his legs, giving him the pillow. His hand holds Rui’s head in place against his shoulder and Rui can feel his breath trailing over his face. He closes his eyes. It’s minty. He gave him an extra toothbrush earlier.
Thunder sounds once more. Tsukasa jumps, hands moving to his hair and as much as the gesture has Rui overheating internally he sits up, looking at him. “Are you scared of thunder?“
There are flowers in the SEKAI but no insects, due to Tsukasa’s dislike for them. It never rains in the SEKAI either, though the times can change from day to night.
Tsukasa stares at him for a moment, registering the question before shaking his head. “Not really,” he says. “I just don’t like it much.”
Probably because it’s the only thing louder than his voice, Rui muses. It’s not the same response he had about bugs though, so he doesn’t push. “Not a fan of the rain then?”
Another shake and Rui drops it as the rain continues.
With a little more cajoling, Rui manages to get Tsukasa to his bed. Tsukasa is pouting, arms crossed over his chest like a kid on the verge of a tantrum, sulkily pulling the covers over himself. Rui barely manages to stifle his laughter, making himself comfortable on the couch.
Winter is usually when his room is the coldest and with the rain, it’s not long until Rui starts to feel the chill settling in. He’s about to ask Tsukasa if he wants a heater on but then there’s movement on Tsukasa’s end, and he’s sitting up to see him shuffling over to one side, opening the covers up. He blinks. “Tsukasa-kun?”
“That couch is too small for you.”
Ah. Rui unbends his legs. They go over the couch and blanket. “I have grown considerably since I was a child.”
“Rui.” Even in the darkness, Tsukasa still seems to glow. His eyes take on a shine like they usually do when he‘s determined. “There’s enough room for both of us.”
Sometimes, it’s hard to tell if Tsukasa is willfully ignorant or clueless. Emu is usually conscious yet doesn’t seem that way while Nene is entirely too aware at times. Half of Rui wants nothing more than to ask him if he’s aware of the implications of what he’s saying while the other half that’s responsible for logic and reasoning has packed its bags and departed.
He manages to catch it before it leaves the station in time to hear: “—used to do the same when me and Saki were younger too!”
As sweet as that sounds, Rui really does not want to be thinking of his sister right now. Not when Tsukasa’s had enough of his lack of response, patting the empty side of the bed, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “So?”
There is, in fact, enough room for both of them. Yawning, Rui stretches his legs out at the same time Tsukasa yelps, volume jolting all the lethargy out of him.
“Sorry! Your feet were really cold.”
“Ah.” Rui retracts them, but Tsukasa knocks his legs into his.
“You don’t need to move,” he huffs. “Just startled me, that’s all.”
A rustle of the blanket later. “Hey! That’s not an excuse to keep doing it!”
Chuckling, Rui buries half his face into the pillow. Tsukasa’s facing him, neither of them turning around. He knows one of them should but he doesn’t dare move, not when it gives him the chance to view Tsukasa in an environment entirely different from the stage. Messy hair, pink cheeks, and faces inches away from each other. The rain pouring all night long.
“You know,” Tsukasa murmurs, not breaking eye contact despite his heavy-lidded gaze. Their star gets tired too. “Your home is noisy.”
“Sorry.”
“No!” A loud shout, but Tsukasa lowers it. “I mean, no, not in a bad way. It’s…nice.”
Rui has been to his house a few times. Some with the rest of the troupe, and some without. Never has he met Tsukasa’s parents. The house is always silent, the only sound his own breathing and footsteps as he goes upstairs or wherever Tsukasa is leading him. Silence–space to be filled. The SEKAI’s always loud; jolly carnival music, the faint echo of applause, cheers, and loud shouts from the VIRTUAL SINGERS.
Here, there’s the chatter of his parents in the room over, the faint whir of some of his inventions he left on, and of course, the rainfall outside. He should get started on a white noise machine, for Tsukasa.
Fingers softly curl around his. “It’s nice,” Tsukasa repeats, looking directly at him.
Rui’s breath hitches in his throat.
“Also, have you ever had a sleepover?” Tsukasa asks, a complete change of topic. Rui suspects this must be how Tsukasa feels when he tests his inventions for him—being flung from one side to the next. He’s no Tsukasa, still perfectly put together after being launched out of orbit, but he does manage to compose himself in time to deliver his lines.
“Technically with Nene, but she lives right next door anyway. Have you?”
“When Saki’s friends were over,” he says. Saki’s friends again. What about his? “I used to put on shows for them.”
An image flickers through his mind of a younger Tsukasa. Toothy grin, messy hair, and more energetic than how he usually is. Playing as a knight with a toy sword, slaying some beast for his sister and her friends to get them to laugh. It gets him to do the same. “Oh? That must've been quite a sight to behold.”
“They were too amazed to speak!” And he’s delved into a recount of the acts he’s put on for them, with Rui poking and prodding where he can. It’s not long until his eyes start to droop, and the picture of Tsukasa talking in front of him turns more and more hazy.
“Rui?”
“I’m here.” Another hand brushes his hair back and Rui jars awake, the concern on Tsukasa’s face turning to relief when Rui’s gaze meets his. “Can’t sleep?”
It’s half said as a tease and question, but Tsukasa’s brows furrow. “Tsukasa-kun?”
Maybe it’s too noisy for him to sleep. He has a pair of noise-canceling headphones around here somewhere. Sure it’s for blocking out his voice in question, but that means it’d be more than effective for sleeping.
“Sorry, don’t mind me.”
“It’s…rather hard to sleep when you’re staring.”
“I’ll close my eyes! Goodnight!” Rui closes his the same time he says it, but then he opens them a second later and Tsukasa’s squeezing his eyes shut tight.
“Tsukasa-kun.” It might be the hundredth time he’s called his name all evening, but Rui’s tongue would never tire. Especially when Tsukasa’s eyes flutter open, wide gaze staring back at him. “Goodnight.”
Tsukasa’s foot kicks him under the covers. “I just said that! Go to sleep, we’re not going to get any rest!”
Rui laughs. He would say something more but Tsukasa is pouting and the exhaustion is getting to him, so for now, he closes his eyes, listening to the sound of Tsukasa’s breathing before they drift off.
In the morning, what he first hears are the birds chirping. Rui blinks awake slowly, his crowded ceiling contraptions coming into focus, a warmth weighing down on his side.
He looks over.
“Tsukasa-kun,” he says, voice hoarse as the first thing he’s said this morning.
Sunlight streams in, bathing his room in faint rays of light. Blond tufts of hair are all he can make out as Tsukasa has his head tucked down, an arm draped over Rui’s stomach, pulling him closer.
Tsukasa doesn’t move. Before Rui can ask if he’s awake, a loud snore rumbles through the room, the feel of Tsukasa’s chest rising and falling against his side. Tsukasa mumbles a few things in his sleep until it settles back into the relaxing morning silence.
With his free hand, Rui grabs his phone. Still early. He looks back down at the sight of Tsukasa, snoring away without a care in the world, rumpled hair, basked in the sunlight, and right beside him, in Rui’s clothes, bed, and home.
…
…it’s not like they have anything planned other than rehearsals later.
Turning off his phone, Rui settles back comfortably in his bed, leaning closer to Tsukasa.
(It’ll be his special secret then.)