Work Text:
It was inevitable.
Wataru knew that much, no matter how much he tried to pretend he didn’t.
Before the two had become romantically involved, he had heard rumors.
The Emperor collapsing in the library, struggling to function after performances. Still, he thought it could be exaggerated.
That was until he saw Eichi collapse first hand.
Despite the two having several of their first proper conversations in the sterile and suffocating hospital room, Wataru had only actually seen Eichi after he had been stabilized.
It was only a few months later that the pair happened to be walking side by side when the other collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as struggled to breathe. Eichi had joked afterward that he had never seen Wataru nervous before, seeing such a primal fear had been more alarming than his own medical episode.
Wataru, for once, didn’t laugh.
It had been three years since they had graduated from Yumenosaki, four and a half years since they began dating, and in three weeks it will be three years since Eichi had proposed.
Wataru, in all honesty, had wanted a short engagement.
He was hopelessly devoted to Eichi, and he really didn’t see that changing. Nevertheless, his fiance had insisted that they take the time to finish university and plan a proper wedding.
He didn’t have the heart to tell Eichi that he was afraid he wouldn’t live to see him graduate.
Still, Eichi finished his business degree just a month ago, taking a few classes over the summer and winter breaks. Wataru was set to graduate in the spring of the next year, with their wedding date planned for mid-April. He and Eichi will both be twenty-two by then, the doctors were saying with recent advancements that the latter could live to see his thirties.
But even with the knowledge that Eichi was given more time, it still didn’t feel like enough.
Despite his limited time and busy schedule, Eichi still found the time to come to each and every performance that Wataru put on. It didn’t matter that he’d seen him perform a million times, he was always there.
This play was one neither of them had experienced before, “The Duchess of Padua.” Of course it wasn’t as if Wataru had never heard of it, what thespian could ignore Wilde’s works?
It wasn’t particularly long, short compared to some of the Shakespeare he’d done in the past. It hardly takes two hours before the final act comes around, leaving Wataru’s character, Guido, sitting in his jail cell with his head hung low. The actress playing the Duchess arrives, begging him to switch places despite Guido’s repeated refusal. As the bell tolls for his execution, he moves to drink from the goblet of poison, only to find it empty. Wataru has acted this part out a million times in practice, he had recited the lines of the argument before, begging the Duchess to let him kiss the poison from her lips so that he may die with her.
“What, Beatrice, have I not Stood face to face with beauty? That is enough For one man’s life. Why, love, I could be merry;” He smiles, holding the actress close as the Duchess dies, “I have been often sadder at a feast, But who were sad at such a feast as this When Love and Death are both our cup-bearers? We love and die together.”
The final few lines are a blur, autopilot kicking in during the stage kiss as his eyes wander to the crowd, to the head of blond hair sitting in the front row.
He swallows hard, breathing becoming strangely difficult as the actress contorts her face in pain, body seizing as tears stream down her face. She cries out, screaming with an authenticity that makes him tremble, before falling limp into his arms.
Guido is supposed to take his dagger out.
He is supposed to stab himself with the prop knife, drag the Duchess’ cloak over her body and collapse onto her.
Wataru does none of that.
His vision blurs, flashing between the actress in front of him and the image of his Eichi, his lover, his world, dying in a hospital bed. He sees the bags under his eyes, the tired twitch at the corner of his mouth, he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.
He stares at the actress in his arms for far too long, strained breaths having turned into sobs. Only then does he realize that tears had blurred his vision, those same tears now streaming down his face.
Wataru knew how to cry on command, it was an essential skill for any actor, but this…anyone in the crowd could tell that this wasn’t the case this time.
The crew hastily draws the curtains, a stage hand quickly rushing to help Wataru up as the actress huffs and walks to her dressing room.
He can’t understand a word they’re saying as he’s hastily shoved into his dressing room and onto the soft couch. All he can manage to choke out is pleas for his fiance.
After a few moments, the door bursts open, Eichi rushing to sit beside him, holding his face gently as he wipes away tears.
“Wataru? My dove?” He whispers, his voice so soft that he has to strain his ears to hear him over the commotion outside. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
The actor hastily shakes his head, still struggling to form coherent words around the globs of tears and mucus clogging his throat. He looks like a complete mess, that much he’s sure of. He hasn’t cried this hard since he was a child, shuddering breaths taken between each cry as he wiped his nose with a kerchief.
His fiance rubs his back, gently holding his hand while he allows him to get everything out.
Once his breathing is calm enough, Wataru speaks.
“I’m so scared to lose you.”
His throat feels like sandpaper and tears threaten to spill again as he looks up to match Eichi’s gaze.
He’s never seen so much...pity.
“...I know.” He whispers, squeezing his hand a little tighter, “I’m scared to leave you alone…isn’t that funny? I’m at peace with my…fate but not yours.”
Wataru doesn’t laugh, for once he’s at a complete loss, he has no idea what to say.
Thankfully, Eichi speaks again. “It will never be easy, it will never not scare you.” He takes his lover’s face into his hands and softly kissing away the tears on each cheek, “But you can always talk about it with me, I’ll never be mad if you need to, okay?”
The magician manages a nod, hardly able to keep eye contact with him.
“I’m sorry I never communicated that sooner, I hate that you had it…bottled up like this.” He sighs, pulling his hands away from his face to take his hands in his, kissing the ring finger, right on the tan line his engagement ring left.
Wataru takes a deep breath, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to his fiance’s lips, “I…I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I’m sure it must’ve been humiliating to have your fiance breakdown on stage like tha-”
Eichi presses a finger to his lips, furrowing his brow, “Never speak of yourself like that. This was not your fault and you could never humiliate me.”
A moment of silence passes before either speaks, nothing but the low hum of the classical music playing in the hall outside.
“Do you want me to have someone pick up some jello?”
Wataru raises an eyebrow and can’t help but smile, “Do you really think I could be distracted from this by lime jello?”
Eichi shrugs, planting a firm kiss on his forehead, “I have a hunch that jello, wine, and a day in bed tomorrow might.”