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It started as a whim—a joke, in fact—and became a sort of tradition.
The first time was towards the end of the first show of the Block Party tour. Samatoki had just come off stage after Rinka, and Ichiro was getting ready to close the show. He held out his fist, which Samatoki bumped with a grin, and because he was a little foolish, a little greedy, and a lot in love—
Ichiro grinned right back and joked, "Kiss for luck?"
Samatoki didn't give him a chance to laugh, to say 'just kidding'. He didn't hesitate in the slightest before ducking in and brushing his lips to Ichiro's cheek.
"Go get 'em."
Ichiro gave the best performance of his life that night, leaving the crowd as wild as he felt.
After the next show, Ichiro didn't have to ask for it. He got his fist bump, then a peck on the cheek.
After the third, Ichiro was waiting right at the bottom of the steps leading down from the stage. He got his fist bump and his kiss, and this time even dared to turn his head, brushing a kiss to Samatoki's brow.
"You were amazing," Ichiro whispered, the salt of Samatoki's sweat sweet on his lips. "Got the crowd all fired up for me."
Samatoki breathed a husky laugh in his ear and patted Ichiro's hip, his hand lingering just long enough to make Ichiro shiver. "Anything for you, Ichi."
Ichiro wasn't completely dense. He knew there was a damn good chance that they were flirting, that his feelings weren't remotely one-sided. But he also knew the energy of the tour was perfect right now, and neither of them would do anything to compromise it.
They could wait.
But they kept up their routine, their tradition. A fist bump, a kiss, set to the elated cheers of the crowd that bridged the breath between Rinka and Hiphoppia. It became comfortable, familiar. Unchanging from night to night, show to show, except for the fact that Ichiro, in his eagerness, crept a step higher up the stairs below the stage every time.
At the last show, he met Samatoki practically halfway up those stairs. Samatoki was buzzing too, eager enough that he skipped the fist bump entirely, knocking and nuzzling his forehead against Ichiro's instead, before kissing—unmistakably—the corner of Ichiro's lips.
"Take it away, babe."
Ichiro didn't bother trying to fight back a grin. "Anything for you, Samatoki-san."
He sang his heart out, because he sang for Samatoki. He always did, and that night, he knew Samatoki would feel it too.
As soon as the final note fell from his lips, Ichiro turned and raced back to the stairs. He always hurried, for the costume change before the all-stars encore, but this time he was in even more of a hurry to get backstage.
To get back to Samatoki.
Ichiro didn't have to go far. He was in Samatoki's arms before he knew it, being kissed—really kissed, lips parting against lips, just like Ichiro had been wanting since he first laid eyes on Samatoki at their auditions so long ago.
It wasn't until they parted, breathless and giddy, that Ichiro registered a change, a spike, in the energy of the crowd packing the arena. Instead of the usual chant for an encore, there was… shrieking, sobbing, endless cries of his and Samatoki's names.
It wasn't until Ichiro looked past Samatoki's shoulder and found Ichijiku glaring death at them that he realized they were pretty close to the top of the stairs.
Pretty much at the top of the stairs, in fact.
"Oh, fuck." Ichiro would feel a bit bad for it later, but he couldn't stop smiling, couldn't pull away from Samatoki, not even as realization set in. "Think, um. Think they might've seen that."
Samatoki's own smile was just as unwavering, He stretched up, bumped his forehead to Ichiro's again, and murmured, "So let them see."
They would have their agency to answer to later, their fans, their sponsors. But it was finally everyone else's turn to wait.
With his back to the stage, Ichiro cupped Samatoki's face and kissed him once more.
For all the world to see.