Chapter Text
Seiya killed the engine a block away from Masakado’s place, hoping they wouldn’t attract unwanted attention. He hadn’t stepped into the apartment since they had started their… well, their new relationship. Suddenly, realization hit him — he was dying to.
“Are you sure this is okay?”
Masakado turned to him in slow motion and nodded sheepishly. Seiya scratched his itchy nose as he stole a glance at Masakado, right next to him. He quickly glanced back at the windshield, giving him some seconds to compose a proper answer. It was not a pet peeve of his — he only wanted to hear the other’s voice.
Masakado chuckled, and Seiya had to wonder if his boyf— if Masakado had just read his mind.
There was no time to ask anything, though, ‘cause the next second had Masakado saying, “Yes, this is fine. We don’t want any pictures on bunshan about you taking me home…”
Seiya shrugged, he hoped nonchalantly.
“Just a bandmate dropping another bandmate home. Nothing interesting there.”
“Are you kidding? Fans would have a field trip if they saw a picture of us,” he simply said, and Seiya couldn’t help the amused grin tugging at his lips.
Seiya risked another glance and almost regretted it immediately.
Masakado wasn’t looking out of the window anymore — lips pursed, jaw tight with something unsaid, face unreadable, as if a wall had gone up between them.
No, he wasn’t like that anymore.
Seiya almost wished he still were.
“Stop staring!” Seiya heard himself say, and his ears rang a bit. No way he would know what he was thinking about, right? There was just no way! Seiya looked back at the windshield, already feeling the teasing coming from his— from Masakado.
“I would,” Masakado said, voice dripping with that smug riakoi tone that Seiya loved and hated in equal parts.
Seiya could swear he felt Masakado inching closer though he wasn’t looking, his body tingling with every stupid nerve coming alive at his proximity, but refused to react to it.
“…If only I didn’t have the hottest boyfriend,” Masakado delivered the final blow with a sultry purr.
Seiya couldn’t hold himself anymore — his body turned toward Masakado, trying to protest the outrageous claim. Nothing but an attempt, really — because any protest died on his lips, breath completely stolen by a surprise kiss. A kamikaze kiss.
As short-lived as it was, Seiya got surprised; he actually had to open his eyes slowly as he tried to get his breath back. When had he closed them?
He almost squeezed his eyes shut back again in an instant as he found Masakado’s silly grinning face staring at him from a few inches apart.
“You are also the cutest, Sei-chan…”
“Somebody could see us, aho …! Remember bunshan ? And what would the fans say?” Seiya tried to protest, though his voice betrayed him, high-pitched with emotion. The lack of oxygen forced him to whisper the sentence instead. No wonder Masakado chuckled at him!
“Ouch!”
It all earned him a smack on the head.
“I was just making sure it didn’t go by four more days before we kissed,” Masakado said in between laughs. Seiya refused to see himself on any reflecting surface, but he knew he was blushing at the mention of his own words.
His insides twisted with something akin to emotion with the way Masakado was looking at him after the chuckle died on his lips. Was he turning into some sort of giddy teenager in love? He wondered when he could finally be in front of Masakado without feeling a stampede of wild dog pups wrecking his stomach and traveling through all his nerves.
But Masakado kept looking at him, expectant. Seiya wasn’t sure he could give him what he expected — heck, he couldn’t fathom what that could be — but they had promised they’d talk more. So here was to talking more.
“You have way too much fun messing with me, don’t you?”
He puffed his cheeks and met Masakado’s gaze for five whole seconds. Actually, five . A new record — not that anyone else would’ve noticed.
Something softened in Masakado’s eyes — not surprise exactly, but a flicker of something quieter. Fonder. But also darker . Slightly .
“Of course, I do,” he said, voice gentler than before. “You make the cutest reactions when you get teased.”
“I don’t!”
“Yes, you do.”
“I usually just laugh,” Seiya furrowed his brow. Maybe Masakado imagined things about him.
“Just don’t laugh when I’m the one teasing you,” Masakado said and, as if proving his point, he caressed Seiya’s left ear. It must be burning if Seiya felt Masakado’s usually hot fingers actually cold.
Seiya looked down and squeezed his eyes shut. Masakado’s fingers on his reddened ear felt mortifying, yes, but also so, so good. A soft shiver crawled down his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. He clenched his fists in his lap, hoping Masakado wouldn’t notice the way his breath stuttered.
The pad of Masakado’s thumb traced the delicate edge of cartilage, just once. Seiya’s pulse leapt in his throat. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from making a pathetic little noise. His ears were always the worst — too sensitive, too easy to fluster him — and Masakado had figured it out far too quickly.
“That’s ‘cause it’s you ,” he managed, voice thin as paper. But hey, maybe this whole talking thing wasn’t so hard after all.
Masakado let out a low hum, like he was pleased with the answer. His thumb swept the curve again, slower this time, deliberate. Seiya’s stomach flipped. He didn’t dare look up.
“Then, I’ll take teasing you as one of my boyfriend’s rights,” Masakado murmured.
“Nanjya sore?”
Masakado chuckled softly — just a short, warm laugh — but Seiya could feel something deeper there. A tremor of feeling, the same one rattling around in his own chest. His heart grew a few sizes bigger, just knowing he’d caused it. Never mind that he was the one falling apart.
“What’s that supposed t—?”
The rest of the question never made it out.
Because Masakado’s hand slipped from his ear to the side of his face, and his mouth was there — sudden, certain.
The kiss bloomed on its own, warm and inevitable as sunrise. Masakado tilted his head just enough to slot their mouths together perfectly, like he’d been thinking about it for days — like he’d been just waiting.
Seiya tried to stay composed, to keep some sliver of dignity, but the moment Masakado’s bottom lip brushed his, his brain emptied. His hands, so stubbornly clenched in his lap, finally lifted — hesitant — before they found Masakado’s shoulders.
Masakado made a small noise, something low and pleased, and deepened the kiss in response. Seiya felt it everywhere: the heat pooling in his chest, the electric shock of Masakado’s fingers skimming his jaw, the ragged catch in his own breath.
He parted his lips on a shaky inhale, and Masakado took the invitation, coaxing him deeper, slower. There was no rush this time. No kamikaze attack. Just something deliberate. A promise .
When they finally broke apart, it was because Seiya needed air, not because either of them wanted to stop. He stayed close, forehead resting against Masakado’s, eyes squeezed shut. His heart was a mess, thumping so hard he was sure Masakado could feel it.
A beat of quiet. Two.
Seiya forced his eyelids open — just enough to find Masakado watching him. His gaze was soft. Unbearably soft.
“Can I kiss you?” Masakado breathed, voice husky at the edges.
“You’re supposed to ask that before!” Seiya muttered, though it sounded more like a sigh than a complaint.
“Then…” Masakado’s thumb brushed his cheekbone, slow and warm. “Should I give it back before asking again — properly?”
Masakado didn’t wait for an answer; he kissed Seiya again. Short, but so, so sweet.
“What’s the point of asking?” Seiya asked, eyes still closed as if in wait for the next kiss. He couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips, as small as it was.
“Have to prove to my boyfriend I’m a gentleman,” Masakado murmured. His voice had gone lower. Rougher.
Third kiss lingered a moment longer, but who was keeping track? Seiya could sense a shift in Masakado’s demeanor. He was being super sweet, but carefully so. Testing the waters. But as he said, “I don’t want to scare my boyfriend away,” the kiss deepened, and Seiya felt something twist deep in his chest.
He likes calling me his boyfriend. That’s so…
“I’m not easily scared,” Seiya lied in between more kisses, emboldened by the comfort of Masakado’s presence, the warmth of his lips, and the way his own heart wouldn’t stop hammering. He was sure Masakado would call him out on his lie. But he didn’t.
Instead…
“Stay…” he whispered, his lips urgent against Seiya’s, fierce and demanding. If Masakado was planning to fog his mind into saying yes, Seiya had to confess it was actually working.
“I—”
“Stay.”
Masakado’s teeth caught gently on his lower lip before he traced kisses down his chin, along his jaw. He stopped just for a fleeting second by Seiya’s ear, long enough to drop another bomb.
“We won’t risk getting caught.”
Seiya was about to say something — anything — but the words turned into a low, helpless sound when Masakado grabbed him by the nape and deepened the kiss. Suddenly. Just like the night after Westo-nii-san’s concert, when they’d nearly lost control.
It felt just like that , as if they were just a breath away — a kiss away — from losing control.
Masakado broke the kiss, but his hand remained on Seiya’s nape as he rested their foreheads against each other. He let out a long sigh and, when Seiya snapped his eyes open, he could see creased brows and pursed lips on Masakado’s handsome face. Even tired — or maybe even annoyed — Masakado couldn’t help being irresistibly handsome.
“I can hear you overthinking…” Masakado murmured, too soft to fight against.
“You can’t hear a person overthinking!” Seiya tried to protest, though it came out thin and unconvincing. “That’s ridiculous!”
One beat, then another. Masakado sighed again and this time let go of Seiya.
“Do you realize you’re not denying it?” Seiya didn’t understand. “That you were overthinking... You’re not denying it!”
“I wasn’t…! Obviously.” Seiya huffed, looking anywhere but at him. He then added with as much confidence as he could muster. “I wasn’t overthinking, Masakado.”
Masakado just pointedly stared at Seiya, as if silence could draw a different answer from his lips. Seiya huffed again. And then, he scratched his itchy nose… and neck… and… suddenly he was itchy all over.
“I was thinking…” he mumbled.
Masakado tilted his head, eyebrow arched, half amused, half serious. “About what?”
Seiya’s cheeks burned. He cleared his throat again. There was no going back from this.
“About that night…”
“What night?”
“The night… after Westo-san’s concert.”
“The night when you came into my room asking for guitar advice for mistakes you didn’t make? That night?” Masakado smiled wide and smug. “Ouch! What was that for this time?”
Seiya hit him almost for real this time.
“Not that one, you idiot!” And then dropped his voice to a shy, embarrassed whisper. “T-the other one…”
Masakado’s smile wobbled, part smugness fading into something softer. “The other one…?”
Seiya swallowed and nodded. The memory felt too big for the small space between them. Too raw. Too important to leave it just as a nod.
Seiya drew a careful breath. “When you… asked me to come to your room. And we…” His voice trailed off as heat flooded his cheeks. He felt ridiculous — like he was seventeen again, fumbling around a feeling he couldn’t name.
Masakado didn’t rush him. Just waited, thumb brushing lazy circles over the back of Seiya’s hand.
Seiya stared down at their joined hands and took a shaky breath. “The night when I… stayed. And we… almost …” He trailed off again, searching for words that didn’t make him sound completely pathetic.
He heard Masakado’s breath catch. Seiya forced himself to look up and saw it. The flame of heat flickered across Masakado’s face, and his hand tightened slightly at the back of Seiya’s neck. He remained quiet, though — his silence said enough. They’d both been thinking about that night more than either of them would admit.
That was more than enough for Seiya to continue, to push himself and just talk .
“When we…when you said you’d wait,” Seiya whispered, voice so small he wasn’t sure it counted as speaking. “And we almost…”
Masakado’s thumb traced a slow circle behind his ear. “When we almost…”
“Yeah,” Seiya said too fast, cutting him off before he could say it out loud.
He pressed his lips together, staring at the hollow of Masakado’s throat because it was easier than meeting his eyes.
“I thought about that,” Seiya admitted quietly. He then cleared his throat and tried to steer away to safer waters. “I was thinking about the way you were kissing me just now, and I was thinking about how it felt— it felt… like that. Like that night. And about… how it feels now.”
Masakado didn’t move. Didn’t tease. He just watched Seiya with that open, patient look that always made him feel like he was being seen too clearly.
Masakado’s expression shifted, the last trace of a smile dissolving into something closer to wonder. “And… how does it feel now?”
Seiya’s throat felt too tight. But if he’d learned anything in the last weeks, it was that silence only made things worse.
“It feels… like I want to stay,” he admitted, voice breaking on the last word. “Like I’m always about to.”
Masakado closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. When he opened them again, there was something fierce behind the softness.
“You can,” he said simply. “You can stay. We’ve got work together tomorrow anyway… feels right.”
Seiya swallowed again. His heart was so loud he was sure Masakado could hear it.
“But,” Masakado added, and there was the faintest flicker of a grin again, “if you do, I can’t promise I’ll remember to be a gentleman.”
He was teasing. Seiya knew it was just teasing, but the way he said it — low and a little hoarse — made his chest feel too tight.
He tried to look away, but Masakado’s fingers brushed his jaw, coaxing him back.
“Sei-chan… it doesn’t have to be tonight , you know?”
“I— I know.” Seiya breathed out, and rushed to say before Masakado could get the wrong idea, “I’m not saying I don’t want— I mean, I do.” His face was on fire. “Just—”
Masakado leaned in, pressing a gentler kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll wait.”
Seiya swallowed, nodding a little. He felt like he could breathe again.
And of course, because the universe liked to mock him, that was when his phone went off — an obnoxious little alarm he’d set and already forgotten about.
He startled so hard he nearly hit his forehead against Masakado’s.
“Oh— it’s— an alarm I—” He fumbled the phone out of his pocket and read the message on his phone. “Oh. It’s Ryusei-kun’s birthday…”
Masakado blinked at him. “…Do you have an alarm for that?”
Seiya hesitated, but before he could answer, something about his eyes must have conveyed an idea that hadn’t even formed in his mind, because, the next second, Masakado had raised both hands like a shield. “It’s not that I’m jealous. Or…anything like that.”
For once, Masakado was the one scratching his nose — and it was oddly satisfying.
Seiya stared. Then he laughed, half from nerves, half from relief. “You kind of sound like you are.”
Masakado huffed, eyes darting away. “I’m not. Just… surprised.”
“You know I’m terrible with important dates…” Seiya mumbled, though they both knew it was only half-true.
“Oh, I know,” Masakado shot back, all too quickly.
They were both lying, and they both knew it. Seiya forgot plenty of things, alright, but never the ones that truly mattered. Not about birthdays. Or anniversaries. Or the first night Masakado had looked at him like this.
“So I have these… these alarms to help me…” Seiya muttered, pulling his phone closer. His thumb hovered over Ryusei’s contact in LINE and opened their chat. Anything to give his hands something to do.
Seiya tapped out a quick birthday message with clumsy fingers, still aware of the weight of Masakado’s gaze on him.
「 Happy birthday, Ryusei-kun. 」
The second his thumb hit “send,” Masakado moved.
There was no warning, no hesitation — just lips, sudden and warm, pressing against Seiya’s mouth like gravity had decided for them.
Without a word, without a signal, Masakado leaned in and captured Seiya’s mouth in a kiss — smooth, confident, timed like he’d been waiting for just that moment. His lips, sudden and warm, pressed against Seiya’s mouth as if gravity had decided for them.
“Wh— M-Masaka—” Seiya barely managed between kisses, breath caught somewhere between protest and surrender.
The protest barely escaped before it was swallowed whole.
Masakado was kissing him like he had something to prove — slow and coaxing, like he knew Seiya would melt, eventually. And maybe he would. Because God, he wanted to fight it, he really did. If he gave in now, there’d be no chance of leaving with a clear head, no way he’d be able to say no if Masakado asked him to stay again.
But then Masakado’s fingers slipped under his jaw, tilting his face just so, and Seiya forgot what his point was.
The kiss deepened — hungry, sure — and Seiya whimpered into it before he could stop himself. Stupid Masakado and his stupid ability to short-circuit his entire nervous system with one well-placed touch.
Then — ping — his phone buzzed again.
Saved by the bell.
Seiya broke the kiss with a gasp, voice cracking on the excuse: “Wait, I— I have to answer this.”
Masakado didn’t budge.
“Your hands are free, aren’t they?” he murmured against Seiya’s jaw, lips brushing skin with every word. “There’s nothing stopping you from answering it.”
“You’re impossible—” Seiya whispered, but he was already fumbling for his phone, trying to bring the screen into focus. He felt Masakado’s lips skim lower, brushing the underside of his jaw, then down his neck. A kiss there. Another. Open-mouthed and warm.
Seiya’s whole body tensed. He was not going to survive this.
The screen blurred in his vision. Ryusei’s message was harmless enough:
「Thanks, Seiya! 😊☺️」
He exhaled in relief — a normal reply. Good. Cool. Easy.
Now all he had to do was send a harmless reply. Something like:
Hope you had a good one!
Or:
Enjoy your day!
Simple. Friendly.
Except Masakado’s teeth grazed the shell of his ear, and Seiya’s brain skipped like a scratched CD. His thumbs danced across the screen before his thoughts caught up with his fingers. Half his attention on typing, the other half… completely overwhelmed by Masakado tracing kisses along his neck.
He typed without thinking. The words weren’t even processed by his brain until after he hit send.
「We’ll be intruding on your YouTube recording tomorrow. Please be kind to me.」
Wait.
Seiya stared.
Masakado, oblivious — or pretending to be — hummed low against his skin. “Done typing?”
“What did I just—?” he whispered.
Masakado hummed into his skin. “Something cute, probably.”
Seiya didn’t answer. His stomach had bottomed out. He just stared at the screen, without really looking.
Then, his phone buzzed again.
He didn’t want to look.
He really didn’t want to look.
But he did.
「Eh? Really? lol」
Seiya froze. His entire body locked up. Heart flatlining, then spike-jumping in panic.
Masakado noticed the change immediately. “Hmm?”
“I— I—” Seiya stammered, trying to make words happen. “I messed up.”
Masakado pulled back just enough to see his face. “What kind of messing up are we talking about?”
“The kind that ruins the surprise guest appearance?” Seiya muttered in horror, screen tilted in Masakado’s direction.
Masakado leaned in. Read it. Blinked once.
And then burst out laughing.
“Nooo— you didn’t—” he gasped between laughs. “You told him?”
“I wasn’t trying to! You were— you were on my neck!”
“I just told you to type!” Masakado wheezed.
Seiya had enough self-restraint in his panicking body to glare at Masakado.
“How did you just blow the surprise? It’s somehow impressive.” He reached out to ruffle Seiya’s hair. “Maybe we shouldn’t kiss and text.”
Seiya groaned and flopped back in his seat. “I’m never speaking to anyone again.”
Masakado finally calmed down enough to say, “Just tell him it was a joke. Say it was autocorrect.”
“You think that’s believable?”
“I don’t know. You can try?” He gave Seiya his best innocent look. It wasn’t a particularly good one, though.
Seiya shot him a betrayed look. “This is your fault.”
Masakado just grinned — but softened as he looked at him.
“I’m never kissing you again,” Seiya groaned and leaned forward — not toward the steering wheel, but toward Masakado. He let his forehead rest lightly against Masakado’s shoulder.
Masakado stilled. Then, carefully, one hand slid around Seiya’s back. The quiet that followed felt full — comfortable and real. Seiya let himself breathe there, in the warmth of Masakado’s hoodie, in the quiet rise and fall of his chest.
He barely lifted his phone to text again.
「I’m kidding. It was a joke.」
Masakado glanced down at the screen and snorted. “Solid damage control, Seiya-kun.”
“You shouldn’t be talking right now.”
“I’m not the one who blew our top-secret plan during a make-out session.”
“I said, quiet .”
Masakado chuckled again, then shifted — carefully — to press a kiss to the side of Seiya’s head. He held it there for a second, longer than necessary. Gentle.
After a long pause, he said, “I was gonna try again. Ask you to stay.”
Seiya’s breath caught, but he didn’t move.
“I was gonna pull out my best lines,” Masakado added. “Be really annoying about it.”
“I believe you.”
“But,” Masakado said, serious now, “I promised I’d wait. So I’m waiting. Doesn’t mean I’m not frustrated as hell, but I’m not a liar.”
He cupped Seiya’s face gently, thumb brushing his cheek. “You get to decide. Every time. So if tonight’s not it, that’s okay.”
Seiya finally turned his head to look up at him. Masakado wasn’t teasing now. Not smirking or nudging. Just looking at him with steady eyes and a faint smile.
“You get to decide. Every time. So if tonight’s not it, that’s okay. Or tomorrow. Or ever. I won’t push. I’m… patient . Sort of.”
“You’re not patient,” Seiya mumbled, nose brushing against Masakado’s hoodie. “You’re just…”
He trailed off and sighed; the rest of the words felt too heavy in his mouth — not quite ready to be real. Too soon. Too exposing. Was Masakado actually in love ? It seemed like big words for a four-day relationship.
Masakado exhaled a shaky laugh. “That too, yes .”
How did he know?
Seiya blinked hard, his throat thickening. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” Masakado leaned in, pressed one last kiss to his temple.
Then he held him tighter for just a second — like his body didn’t want to let go, even if his mind already had. His breath caught, and Seiya felt it.
Masakado exhaled, and with a small shake of his head, finally let himself pull back. “Still your boyfriend,” he said, voice low. “Even if I’m going home tragically blue-b—” He caught himself, huffing a soft laugh near Seiya’s ear. “…frustrated.”
“Masakado! ”
“Just being honest.” He shrugged. “I am frustrated, Seiya. Deeply. Respectfully. But tragically.”
A small, ridiculous laugh broke out of Seiya — shaky but real.
Masakado hesitated like he wanted to say something more — maybe kiss him again — but didn’t.
Instead, he opened the door, stepping out with the usual ease he wore in public, but paused before closing it.
“Text me when you get home?”
Seiya hesitated. “…Maybe.”
Masakado didn’t push for more. Just smiled — a real, quiet one — and showed signs of closing the door, but leaned in at the last minute, and brushed one last kiss to his cheek before Seiya could take in everything he said in the last matter of minutes. “Good night, Sei-chan .”
Seiya hesitated. Then he leaned back slightly, eyes roaming Masakado’s face like a secret he wanted to keep.
“…Good night.”
Masakado seemed to shut the door before he could change his mind, tension clattering through him like a tin can caught underfoot.
Seiya stayed frozen for a moment in the car’s silence, heart still racing. He stared at his phone.
The chat with Ryusei was still open.
He turned off the screen and slid the phone into his jacket pocket, ready to start the engine and head home — but his fingers brushed against something unexpected.
The guitar pick. Masakado had left it in that exact pocket after rehearsal last week. A bite mark marred the edge—Seiya hadn’t even noticed it until now. He stared at it for a moment, then slipped it back where it belonged, chest tightening too much to hold it longer.
And maybe — just maybe — he kept it beside his pillow when he got in bed later that night, alone, but still too warm and too awake.
Masakado’s name was still on the screen of his phone after he finished setting his alarm. The last message was a single word:
「Home? 」
Seiya stared at it, jaw clenched.
He’d driven the entire way in silence. No music. No thoughts. Just the echo of Masakado’s voice in his skull.
He typed:
「Yeah.」
He hesitated and ultimately erased it.
Then, turned off the screen.
He wished he could turn off that stupid little voice at the back of his head, too.
What if he had said yes?