Chapter Text
Calm .
Calm is the sensation Harua feels deep in his bones at this very moment. He isn’t thinking about the TV program they just left, about the imminent 6-hour dance practice they will be starting soon, about the stress of the album release. Right now, he’s calm.
Right now, he doesn’t realize that standing in the company hallway face buried in Taki’s neck is causing people to stop and look at him. He can’t hear the under-the-breath whispers of “Is he okay? Is he crying?” “Do you think they got scolded?” “They must have had a bad taping…” passing by him in the hallway from lower-level employees. He can’t see them watching. He is only focused on his breathing, the warm neck against his cheek, the smell of jasmine and musk, and the weight of a lazy hand draped along his lower back.
Harua can’t see that their manager is walking down the hallway, key in hand to the practice room, ready to let them in to warm up before their choreographer gets there. He can’t see the door open and 7 other members trickle in one by one. He hears some movement, but his brain is more focused on the constant, light tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump of the heartbeat he feels against his cheek. The jugular, Harua thinks, is one of the most important veins in the human body. The jugular vein carries blood to the heart from the head. Life-sustaining, monumental, precious. Warm against my lips. Pulsing, alive –
“Hey.”
Harua softly gasps and jerks against a solid frame. He hadn’t noticed how comfy and how spaced out he had gotten all while leaning, no – nuzzling, into his best friend. He feels a little bad, he didn’t mean to squish him like this, but if anyone is used to Harua’s quirks it’s Taki.
Harua pulls back and has to blink his eyes a few times to get used to the overhead fluorescent hallway lights before he peeks around, notices they’re alone, then looks up.
Taki’s looking at him with a funny look on his face – like he caught Harua stealing a french fry from Maki’s plate – coy, but wanting to play along with him and steal another for himself.
“Ready?” Is all Taki asks. Patient, steady. Warm .
“Mmm,” Harua replies. Taki doesn’t move his arm from the dip in Harua’s waist. Harua, still resting his weight and looking into Taki’s eyes, glances down where his face was just resting, in the crook of Taki’s neck where it connects to his shoulder. He sees a faint outline of lip gloss, just over the vein that is still visibly pulsing in time with the thumping Harua feels against his own chest. Harua, embarrassed, wipes the gloss with his thumb, looks back at Taki, and gets a slow-spreading smile from the corner of his best friend’s mouth in return. That stupid smirk, Harua thinks to himself before smudging the gloss against Taki’s own mouth with a shove that makes Taki’s head lightly hit the wall behind him. They laugh, but don’t break apart, not yet.
(From the corner of Harua’s eyes, he notices the door open to the practice room, but no one steps out. An opening, for when they’re ready to return to the real world. They have probably two minutes until someone yells at them to hurry up.)
A deep sigh, a quick shove, and Harua stands, unassisted, on his own two feet. Taki, slightly taller than him, shifts his jacket so it’s sitting properly and not sliding down his right shoulder like it was when Harua was against him. Harua notices Taki’s slender, tanned neck, yet again, before Taki zips up the hoodie and adjusts his bag and turns towards the door.
Harua grabs Taki’s shoulders as he follows him and slips his right hand into the collar of his jacket. They walk into the room, Taki leading, curling away from Harua’s wandering hand reaching towards the front of Taki’s neck, giggling.
“Rua - tickles,” Taki whines and giggles, high-pitched. He escapes Harua’s hold and turns around, beaming a smile.
“Taki-chan, so handsome,” Harua croons at his best friend. Taki winks jokingly back at Harua and Harua has to stop himself from holding his breath. The confidence is new on Taki, and Harua is suddenly grateful they’ve gotten here.
As they separate, there’s a flicker of acknowledgement in Taki’s gaze, like he knows Harua’s still a little dazed from cuddling into Taki’s neck. It took them a while to get back to this playful, flirty friendship after recent events. A month ago, Harua would have never dared to touch, let alone look at, Taki’s neck so up-close-and-personal again after his self-proclaimed most embarrassing moment of all time while in Paris. But, that was last month, and Taki’s brief, joking advances feel a little too real now.
🍒
(1 month ago)
Harua has no idea why he’s here, in Paris, France, representing a label that he cannot even fathom to speak the same language of it’s origin. He’s grateful, absolutely, but if you would have told him a luxury brand wanted to fly all 173cm of “plain-jane” him along with his 184cm model-like member, face made to be full-size on building ads in Shibuya Crossing, he’d laugh in your face.
The first class ticket, the luxury SUV they were picked up in, their managers even getting special treatment – he was unclear what he did to deserve all of this.
He must have been a little too deer-in-headlights if Jo, of all people, was shaking him out of his thoughts to offer him the warm towel that had been left for them in the back of the car to freshen up.
“Harua, here. Relax. This is clean - use it to wipe off the gross airplane air,” Jo said with a kind smile as he held out the washcloth.
Harua whisper-shouts, “Jo-kun. This is nuts and we haven’t even started anything yet. How are you so calm?”
“I’m not. I just texted Yuma that I’m pretty sure my feet and hands have produced more sweat than 3 war cry practices combined,” he chuckles, “he sent back a wet cat gif.”
Harua laughs, lighter, then checks his own phone, seeing the typical texts. A “good luck and I love you” from his mother, a few funny emoticons from K-hyung and restaurant recommendations from Maki in their group chat, and some Weverse notifications. What he didn’t expect was a solo text from Taki, separate from their members. Harua clicks it open.
TAKI-CHAN: what if you don’t remember japanese when you come home?
TAKI-CHAN: or my face?
TAKI-CHAN: i’d be sad, rua. don’t make me sad 🙁
Harua rolls his eyes.
Harua: i’d never forget that mug even if your hair gets even longer than it is now
Harua: and the only way i’d forget japanese is if aliens abducted me and removed my brain and replaced it with snails
TAKI-CHAN: …you say that like you think it could happen.
Harua: maybe, i’ve never been to France before. am i closer to mars now?
TAKI-CHAN: no, aliens aren’t real………. right?
Harua: right
Harua: unless they are
TAKI-CHAN: funny.
A couple minutes pass, and Harua watches the skyline zoom past on their way to the showroom. Harua looks over at Jo, who is trying to stay awake while watching practice footage on his phone. It must be close to midnight back home.
His phone buzzes.
TAKI-CHAN: rua.
TAKI-CHAN: be careful while you’re gone.
Harua smiles, fond.
Harua: of course taki-chan. you be careful too. don’t eat my sakura ice cream
TAKI-CHAN: i’m serious.
Harua’s eyebrows furrow. He wonders what is going on back in Tokyo to make Taki so forceful, so blunt, and also sounding so… scared? No, possessive.
Harua: hey, okay i will. i’m good, riki. we’re good
TAKI-CHAN: don’t forget this
TAKI-CHAN: [img]
Harua clicks open the attachment and feels his whole body go cold. There, on Shigeta Harua’s phone screen, is his best friend’s naked chest, visible from just above said best friend’s nipples, to just below his eyes. Neck? Bared. Shoulders? Slim, pumped up, and tan. Moles? Arranged in a neat little triangle in the center and pulling at Harua’s heartstrings.
Now, it’s not like Taki and Harua, or any of the members, have never shared these kinds of pictures before. They’re 20-something year-olds, they are curious, they want to look attractive not only for their fans but also for the general public. They’re idols for christ’s sake, they all must aim to be other-worldy to the masses. They send each other photos after music video shoots, after workouts, between fittings showing off new clothes – you name it. However, out of context, Harua is having a hard time breathing seeing this side of Taki. His focus is non-existent; he can’t see 2 inches in front of his face. He hopes this isn’t an aneurysm.
A series of buzzes gets Harua’s attention back:
TAKI-CHAN: oh fuck
TAKI-CHAN: sorry that wasn’t supposed to send, lol
[TAKI-CHAN has deleted a message.]
TAKI-CHAN: here, this is what i meant to send
TAKI-CHAN: [img]
Harua takes his time clicking the next image, secretly hoping it’s the same one but just with Taki’s eyes in the frame. Taki has such nice eyes. Harua shakes his head to snap out of his stupor.
Harua gulps and fixes his bangs slightly. Taki can’t actually see him freak out, but it sure feels like it. His thumb clicks the image, and it’s Taki’s face, scrunched up and goofy, making his nostrils as wide as possible so you can essentially see into his nasal canal and up into his brain.
Harua: are you insane?
Harua: first of all, that picture is disgusting
Harua: second of all
TAKI-CHAN: [img]
Harua clicks the new image open quickly, ready to save yet another embarrassing picture for Taki’s birthday this year. However, he’s met with a similar photo to the first “accidental” one sent, but added to Taki’s neck is the necklace the two of them had purchased together for their C.H.E.R.R.Y. stage for their 2nd anniversary performance. A thin, silver chain, with a simple, mixed-metal cherry icon hangs right in the dip of Taki’s sternum. The column of his neck is flexed, showing off how it connects smoothly into long, slender collarbones below a set of broad, smooth shoulders. Harua has a lot of thoughts, but the first thing his mind sends to his fingers to type is something he would have never vocalized had they been together in person.
Harua: i think i’m sexually attracted to your neck
Harua shrieks after he realizes what he’s done, nearly throwing his phone over the middle console and into the driver’s lap. He picks it up, apologizes profusely in broken English, then explains with a grimace to Jo, “Taki sent me a jumpscare, hah.” Not wrong, technically, but not factual in the slightest. Jo just nods, understanding that is absolutely something Taki would do, and goes back to focusing on his phone.
A secret he’s kept hidden in words, but certainly not actions, has just been revealed in full to his best friend. He’s mortified.
Ever since Taki and Harua became close before debut, Harua has been no stranger to skinship with Taki. He knows they are always in each others’ hands in some way, but Harua has a special attachment to Taki’s neck. He makes that clear with how often he’s tickling inside Taki’s collar, how when they hug Harua leaves his cheek cradled that dip for just a beat longer. Sue him, Taki’s hot. He never expected to actually tell him though.
Harua is afraid to look at his phone again. He flips it over, sees a couple replies on his lock screen, then decides to ignore his problems. He turns off the phone and hands it to his manager, luckily all at the same time that they arrive at their first fitting. Harua breathes deeply, and forces himself not to think about the trainwreck he just inadvertently turned his closest friendship into.
🍒
Taki is sitting in the living room, trying and failing to watch a movie with Yuma. The text conversation he was just having only started because Taki got a weird pit in his stomach and needed to make sure Harua knew he wasn’t alone. That, or the little devil on his shoulder told him “Harua is going to fall in love with someone Paris and never come home” . That dumb devil.
Taki learned to never question his instincts, even if they seemed a little over the top sometimes. Something about trauma and being present for those around you or whatever, but at least he was better at communicating his thoughts now.
However, the last words he typed on his phone were downright gibberish. He barely remembers texting Harua 7 times in a row, but he would have expected something in return by now, surely. He glances down and sees the evidence still glowing up at him:
Taki [12:01 AM]: UHHHHHH?
Taki [12:03 AM]: HA-HA, rua you’re hilarious
Taki [12:11 AM]: harua.
Taki [12:19 AM]: oh! you meant to say “necks” not “my neck”
Taki [12:21 AM]: (pikachu rolling laughing gif)
Taki [12:31 AM]: necks are really attractive, you’re right
Taki [12:31 AM]: are you at your fitting yet?
Taki [12:39 AM]: hello?
Frustrated, and honestly a little flustered, Taki turns off his phone and throws it across to the foot of the couch. He didn’t really mean to send the first photo to Harua, the second, silly photo was meant to lighten the mood, and the third photo was supposed to let Harua know he was thinking of him even halfway across the globe. Yes, he obviously knows how much Harua likes to touch his neck, so he thought - Hey! I’ll send him something he’s familiar with as a show of comfort. I know he will miss home soon enough. I’m sure he’s nervous. What he didn’t expect in return was his best friend telling him he’s sexually attracted to a feature on Taki that he seeks out and touches all the time.
Taki is in no way bothered; he knows Harua and most of his closest friends and members are queer. Taki himself isn’t quite sure, but he is more open than most other boys his age. Growing up with the most open-minded big brother in Kei-hyung has absolutely been a positive thing, and the industry he is in is no stranger to attractive and questioning men. So, Harua’s reaction doesn’t necessarily bother him, should it be true.
(He’s still second-guessing how anyone, let alone his best friend, could be attracted to him when someone like Maki or Nicholas is right there, but Taki’s still a confident kid.)
What does bother him, though, is Harua not replying. They are best friends, they tell each other everything - even the weird bits. He wants to make sure Harua is okay, that even if what he said is true that he can open up to Taki and tell him anything. Taki can move on and forget it ever happened if that’s what Harua wanted, he just has to talk to him .
Yuma stirs. “Can you stop?”
“Hm?”
“You’re fidgeting like a madman and I’m trying to focus on Peter Parker. Why did you throw your phone?”
He knows secrets between members are few and far between, so Taki sighs and starts to dive into what just happened just as Maki walks in the room and plops down in between them.
“Jo just texted me a pic - look,” as he shoves his phone in Yuma’s face. Taki scrambles to see what is on the screen, even just for a glimpse of his best friend. Jo is nice to see too, but he just wants to see if his bunny-toothed partner in crime is on screen.
The phone shows a mirror selfie of Harua and Jo both in the biggest oversized blazers, no shirts underneath, and skin-tight pants. They’re giggling, and Harua’s blond hair is sticking up on the sides like he’d been running his hands through it for the better part of an hour.
Yuma squeals and snorts laughing at Jo’s dopey expression, clearly trying to ham it up for the camera. Maki chuckles, tilts the phone to Taki and says “Harua looks like a little doll.”
“Harua looks like a man,” Taki finds himself defending his best friend for no reason.
“Oh… well yeah, but just like… a tiny man-doll,” Maki replies, wary. “The oversized coat makes him look like a little stick figure under there.”
Taki collects himself calmly, unsure why he’s getting so worked up, “Haha, yeah…” a gulp, “hey, when did they take that?” Taki asks.
“Timestamp says 12:53 our time, so just two minutes ago. Looks like the sun is about to set over there.”
Two minutes. Two minutes ago, and Taki hasn’t even heard from Harua since 11:59. Two minutes ago, and Jo can find the time to text Maki, and Harua can’t be bothered to text Taki, his literal soulmate.
Taki gets up, grabs his phone, and tries not to stomp away like a petty, clingy fool. Kei-hyung always makes fun of him for being a little possessive, and he isn’t really doing a good job of refuting that claim.
Taki makes it to his and Euijoo-hyung’s room, closes the door, and shoves his phone into Euijoo’s face as he’s sitting on his bed reading a book before he falls asleep.
“Hyung. Can you hold onto this for me?”
Euijoo, lost as to why he is suddenly responsible for his fellow, very capable, member’s belongings, takes the phone gently out of Taki’s hand. “Sure, Taki. I can put it in my dresser.”
“Ah! Don’t tell me where you put it! Just, I can’t be glued to it. Comeback prep and all,” Taki waves his hands noncommittally around the room. He starts to pace the area in front of Euijoo’s bed and tries (and fails) to be nonchalant.
Euijoo watches Taki for a beat and asks, “Wanna talk about it?”
Taki erupts. “YES! Ugh, I mean no. No, I mean, Yes, but No. I can’t. It’s weird.”
“Well, if you–”
“What would you do if Nicholas-hyung was halfway around the world and said something weird, but kinda nice and really shocking, to you and then now you’re spiraling but they won’t text you back but you are trying to be cool because it’s probably nothing but you just wanna make sure they’re okay?” Taki breathes out and pants like he’s just sprinted from the dorm to the practice rooms.
Taki sees Euijoo slowly place his bookmark in his book and places the book on his nightstand slowly, like he doesn’t want to spook a scared puppy. He has no idea why he’s so bothered, but he’s a little glad all that spilled out to someone like Euijoo-hyung and not Kei-hyung who would make Taki go for a run, or something, before he talks to him.
“Taki, I’m going to assume this has something to do with someone who actually is halfway around the world right now. Am I right?”
“Of course you’re right!” Taki slaps a hand over his stupid, riled-up mouth. “Sorry, hyung. I don’t know why I feel so crazy right now.”
Euijoo sends him a fond smile and pats the space next to him on the bed. Taki and Euijoo haven’t cuddled in a long time, but he knows that hyung cuddles are always the best treatment.
Taki curls into Euijoo’s side, Euijoo playing with the soft tufts of Taki’s clean, dark hair.
“Hyung, what if…” Taki trails off. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to ask.
“Nicholas told me he wanted to kiss me when we were sitting at a picnic table along the Han River before debut.”
“WHAT!” Taki whisper-screeches. He knew his two hyungs were – whatever they are – now, but not that early on.
Euijoo laughs. “What I’m trying to tell you is that he blurted his feelings out and, honestly, it helped me open up a lot easier.”
Taki relaxes a bit against the small sliver of pillow he’s leaning on. He hopes he can get back in touch with Harua soon so he can check in on him, see what they need to open up about. Taki clearly has his own feelings he’s been sitting on, but he’s never vocalized them like Harua just did, albeit accidentally.
“What you need to do, though, Taki-ya, is not give up. Don’t just wait. If you want to talk, you talk. Harua will reply when he’s ready as long as you’re still there to reply back.”
Taki snuggles closer, grateful for the warm body, and for Euijoo-hyung for being so observant to not make Taki spell it out for him. “Thanks, hyung.” Taki says sweetly, looking up into round eyes. Euijoo pats Taki’s head, then grabs his book, and Taki’s phone along with it.
“Here. Talk.”
Taki turns his phone back on lying next to his hyung quietly reading. No new messages, none of his texts read. Fine, I’m going to talk my mouth off until Harua replies, Taki muses. I don’t want him to think I don’t wanna talk about… his… our… attraction.
Taki opens his messages, and talks.
Taki [February 25, 1:32 AM]: i think i really like holding your hand
He locks his phone, closes his eyes, and falls asleep in Euijoo’s bed for the night, a little calmer.
—
[February 25, 2025]
Taki [9:57 AM]: your squirtle plushie misses you so i slept with him last night. He probably smells like me now
Taki [9:57 AM]: [img]
—
[February 25, 2025]
Taki [2:11 PM]: had aburasoba for lunch with nico and maki
Taki [2:12 PM]: i think i miss the way you slurp your noodles all messy
—
[February 26, 2025]
Taki [10:04 PM]: practice was super hard today, probably because you weren’t there to make me laugh
—
[February 27, 2025]
Taki [11:02 PM]: i’ve been thinking about something
Taki [11:03 PM]: i’m sorry i think i freaked out a little too much when you talked about my neck
Taki [11:03 PM]: its not a big deal, i’m really flattered you think so rua
Taki [11:04 PM]: probably perfect for vampires 🩸🧛🏼
—
[February 28, 2025]
Taki [5:00 PM]: hope you had a good time at the fashion show yesterday
Taki [5:01 PM]: you looked so good
Taki [5:05 PM]: the clothes, i mean. Jo too
—
[February 29, 2025]
Taki [3:14 AM]: ruaaaaaaa i thnk ur s pretty
Taki [3:14 AM]: canu kkissnmme when u gt hm
Taki [3:15 AM]: whyar e u nt talkin to me :(
Taki [3:15 AM]: my bstttfriend
—
Taki wakes up with his phone still in his hand, drool all down the side of his chin, and his covers obliterated and falling off the side of his bed. His phone, dead, doesn’t help at all when he goes to check the time. He hears scuffling in the living room, glasses clinking, the shower running. It must be pretty late in the morning if there’s that much commotion going on.
He had a fitless sleep, couldn’t get comfy and his brain refused to shut its ugly mouth. He remembers dreaming of swimming, the waves getting a little too hard for him to keep up with, but he was pushing hard to get to shore. He blinks, trying to remember the rest of his dream and only remembering a mantra in his mind: my best friend my best friend my best friend.
He sits upright, stretches out his arms, and plugs his phone in. He takes a few minutes to straighten up his bed, re-tuck his comforter, and throw on a sweatshirt with his house slippers. Before he leaves to go to the bathroom, he hears his phone buzz. He leaves it, thinking his phone is just turning back on with enough juice in the battery to flicker to life, and starts his day.
On Taki’s screen is a simple message:
Rua-rua [9:51 AM]: i miss you too. i’ll see you soon.
🍒