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On a wonderful afternoon in Paris, spent walking around and dining on local cuisine, Asakura Jo feels his heart squeeze, raw and bloody against the silver plate of his achievements.
The premiere event of his new movie has finally given him the opportunity to come to France, a place he couldn’t even dream of visiting in his childhood. Now, he walks on a red carpet with multiple talented celebrities, with the premiere of a movie he had been in, working with global partners and building relationships and connections at the age of 22. The young boy from Kanagawa, who had spent his younger years drawing beautiful art and briefly pursuing basketball, is now a successful adult who was able to give back to his family.
And yet—despite the glory, the success, and the opportunity of being able to come to a foreign country, his heart longs for Tokyo, beating loud and rhythmically in hopes that there was someone who could hear him from all the way on the other side of the world.
The timezones were difficult. In the morning in Paris, it was the afternoon in Tokyo, and Jo didn’t want to be a disturbance during work hours. In the evening in Tokyo, it was the afternoon in Paris, where Jo would often be in the middle of work. In the morning in Tokyo, it was after midnight in Paris, often the only time that Jo is able to have to himself provided the man on the other side of the world spares him a bit of his time.
Today’s schedules began in the morning and ended quite late in the evening, leaving the actor stretched thin from exhaustion. Despite this, he lays awake at 1:23 AM, dialing a number whose owner lived in the timezone of 8:23 AM.
The call connects, and there’s a soft voice on the other side that sounds like home.“もしもし?”
“Riki-kun,” Jo breathes, like hearing the voice cures all his ailments, “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Jo-kun.”
The actor closes his eyes and tries to not let it get to him. “How was your sleep?”
I missed you, is what he doesn’t say.
“Gooood,” the voice on the other side drawls, giggling afterwards. “I thought my back would hurt again, but I slept through the night smoothly. My back only hurts a little bit.”
“I’m glad,” Jo hums. He’s become quieter now, and he actually doesn’t want to talk. He’d prefer listening to the man for as long as he’d be able to, if he can keep himself awake long enough.
Taki detects the weariness in his tone. “Long day?”
“Mhm,” Jo isn’t even sure how he’s still conscious when sleep is pulling at him, heavy and persistent. “But very fulfilling. I got to walk around for a bit, too.”
“Yeah? Was it nice?”
“Yeah,” he affirms. “The pastries were really good, and the weather was perfect.”
I wish you could have been there with me, is what his heart yells, to a recipient miles and miles away.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Taki says, with pure warmth emanating, like the distance didn’t even exist.
It’s silent for a moment. Jo hasn’t quite fallen asleep, but he’s nearly out, too, barely hanging on the last remnants of the caffeine he took around the afternoon.
“Jo-kun, are you still there?” The voice on the other line checks. There is no response.
It’s silent for a little bit again. Then, quietly, Taki confesses through the dim lighting of Jo’s phone, heart singing the same song as his, “I miss you.”
Jo doesn’t hear it. Taki is glad.
“Come back home soon,” he adds, nearly pleading. “Okay?”
The call doesn’t disconnect immediately. When Jo wakes up to his alarm, he sees that the call had lasted for two hours, forty-five minutes and twenty-two seconds.
💭
Jo is set to leave Paris at seven in the evening. In Tokyo, it was two in the morning. And yet, Taki manages to call just before Jo had boarded the plane, wishing him a safe journey back to his home.
Almost fifteen hours later, the plane lands around five in the afternoon in Tokyo. Jo is severely jetlagged and wishes nothing more than to sleep in his own sheets.
He and his manager take a different passage, away from the eyes of his waiting fans (who he greets and waves at, but the exhaustion is pulling at him so much that he can’t keep up appearances). His eyes are nearly dropping close while he rolls his suitcase towards their van.
With the need for sleep, he’s almost delirious that he feels like he’s hallucinating. But then his eyes open again, now wide-awake and alert, and confirms the existence of a man standing near the waiting area.
He isn’t holding a sign, but the actor would be able to spot him from miles away. He’s wearing Jo’s hoodie, an article of clothing that had been with Jo since the start of his career and remains close to his heart.
“Riki-kun,” Jo mutters, winded from the surprise that Taki has taken the time to meet him at the airport. His heart starts to stutter, and he stops in his tracks, staring at one figure and one figure only.
When he’s finally spotted, a grin breaks out, and Taki clutches the strap of his bag tighter, like he’s holding himself back.
Jo runs to him.
When they crash together, the impact almost sends Taki tumbling, but Jo holds him tight, face nearly burrowing in his neck. There’s nothing in his chest but the warm beating of his heart and the beautiful song of being home.
The actor thinks the other could detect how hard and rapid his heart is beating, but he doesn’t care. “You... You didn’t have to come.”
Taki is unable to keep the amusement from bleeding in his tone. “Yeah? why are you holding me this tight, then?”
At seven in the evening from Paris, Jo arrives to his home in Tokyo at five in the afternoon.
💭
The actor falls asleep on the way to his penthouse, head falling on Taki’s shoulder. The position he’s in can’t possibly be comfortable, but his fatigue triumphs over the logistics.
Music plays from the radio in whatever station Euijoo-hyung had changed it to, setting a comfortable mood inside the vehicle. With how silent it is aside from the music, Taki almost falls asleep too. Except,
“Was it difficult?”
“Hm?” Taki’s eyes open fully, attempting to look at Euijoo-hyung through the rear-view mirror. He’s speaking in his native language, which Taki understands with ease, having lived for years abroad with his brother.
“The distance,” the manager repeats. “Was it difficult?”
Taki already has an answer, but he still pauses for a bit.
“There’s always distance,” he replies gently. He can’t look at Jo lest he wake him up with the movement, so he chooses to look at the other’s hand splayed near his lap instead. “But this time, it was different. Just knowing he was in another country...”
I couldn’t wait for him to get home.
“It made me realize how far away he really was.”
The manager is keeping his eyes on the road, though a small smile threatens to surface. "There's going to be more of that. The distance, being hidden. You’re sure that’s what you want?”
Euijoo doesn’t dislike Taki at all. He’s a good influence on the actor who can sometimes be so reckless when it comes to the things he wants to do. There’s a difference between a manager telling Jo not to do things, and Taki telling Jo not to do things. It’s obvious who Jo listens to more.
If Taki’s heart could barely take the week-long separation, what more if it happens again and again?
“Of course, hyung,” Taki answers, warm and true.
He’s what I want.
The distance is bearable. What he won’t be able to take is not having Jo in his life.
💭
“Will you stay the night, Taki-kun?”
I shouldn’t. “I’ll just help Jo-kun get settled and then I’ll leave. I’ll make sure to have my hood up, hyung.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Euijoo smiles. Taki was always easy to work with. “I’ll go now. Take care, Taki-yah.”
“Goodnight, hyung,” Taki bids the manager goodbye. Once he’s out the door, the locks are double checked before Taki joins Jo in the bedroom.
The actor is sitting up against the headboard of his bed, arms crossed over his chest with his head fallen forward. At the sound of the door opening, his eyes open, looking dazedly at the man by the door.
With a small smile, the dancer approaches the bed right as Jo moves to sit on the edge. “You should change out of your clothes first, Jo-kun.”
Taki lets out a little oof when Jo’s forehead falls forward against his chest. Then, he chuckles and runs his hand through the soft, brown locks.
Jo’s eyes are closed again, fists clenching the sheets. Fuck. “I love it when you call me that.”
“What, your name?” He asks to confirm, but there’s nothing else. ”I think everyone in the world calls you that.”
“They do,” Jo admits, easily. But when you do it, it does things to me, things I can’t say right now or else I’ll chase you away.
A hand caressing his face and proceeding to lift his chin brings Jo back from his thoughts. He sees Taki’s eyes, dark and perceptive.
Jo swallows. Hard.
His gaze shifts from the other’s eyes down to his lips, then back up. The lights behind Taki make his face appear darker due to the shadows, and the hands on Jo’s face... aren’t helping.
“But you’re different,” and it’s the truth.
Taki doesn’t react at first. Then, a smile slowly forms, like he’s satisfied with the answer. “Good.”
Jo pretends like he’s not aware of Taki looking at his lips, too.
The dancer pats Jo’s cheek twice before pulling away. “I’ll get you clothes to change into.”
He pads into Jo's walk-in closet, and when he returns holding the change of clothes, the actor has already taken off his shirt.
Taki suddenly finds the floor very interesting as he walks closer to hand the fabrics to him. Jo tries not to chuckle at how cute he is.
He changes quickly so Taki isn’t turned away from him for too long. “I’m finished. You should get ready for bed, too.”
Taki turns back around just as Jo is starting to get under the covers. “Oh, I’m not staying...”
The actor pauses his actions. “Do you have work tomorrow?”
“No,” it slips out faster than Taki could help, before he was able to fabricate a reason the other could believe. “But I shouldn’t stay.”
“Why not?”
I’m too deep in this. “Just because.”
Clearly, it’s not a valid enough reason. Taki would have honestly not believed it either. “It’s late, Riki-kun. You should stay the night.”
God, does Taki want to. He feels the pull towards Jo like how gravity pulls everything closer to the earth’s core, an invisible force that he desperately tries to work against.
“Don’t do that,” Jo chides gently, crawling towards the edge of the bed near where Taki was and sitting back on his heels. “You’re thinking too much.”
He grabs Taki’s hand, gaze never wavering. “Just stay.”
I want you to stay.
Taki doesn’t hear it clearly. But still, seeing how Jo looks when he’s looking up at him, voice firm but nearly pleading...
How can he say no?
“Okay,” Taki relents, and he lets himself be pulled into the comfort of Jo’s arms.
💭
Jo used to dislike waking up in the morning because his mornings were usually so bland and lonely. This time, though, he has a reason to be happy.
He doesn’t sleep pressed against Taki, but he stays close. In the morning, Taki is turned away from him, with Jo facing his back. This is the first time they’ve slept in the same bed, and though no boundaries have been verbally discussed, Jo is respectful not to cross any lines unless Taki lets him.
(He thinks he briefly remembers waking up in the middle of the night where Taki was cuddled into him, body curled against his, but it could have been his imagination. He doesn’t exactly have a way to confirm it, either.)
He’s usually granted one day of rest after a flight, so he doesn’t move at all despite being awake, and instead resorts to looking at the back of Taki’s head, noticing the way his shoulders move slightly with his steady breathing.
This isn't the first time he’s realized it, but it is the first time that he acknowledges how much exactly of this he wants—the slow mornings, the waking up to a warmth next to him. And there’s no one else he’d wish for it to be with other than Taki.
At times, his chest feels like it could swell to an impossible size to accommodate the capacity of what he feels, or retract and compress until he can’t feel anything else. With every breath he takes, it’s becoming more difficult to hold back from everything that he wants, but he forces it all down so he doesn’t chase away the person he needs.
Taki is his home. He can’t lose him, or else he’ll lose it all.
Time passes for however long Jo doesn’t notice when Taki eventually stirs from his slumber. He scans his surroundings, like he doesn’t remember where he is, before twisting his body and inadvertently pushing himself closer to the actor.
His hair is messy, with some tufts sticking upwards, some to the side. There’s a line on his cheek from where it was pressed against the fold of the fabric of the pillow. He blinks at Jo, slow and gentle.
“Hi,” he greets, voice deep from the lack of use.
“Hi,” Jo replies, and his hand itches for a second, like he wants to hold him. “Did you sleep well?”
Taki twists back to his original position for a second, before he turns around completely. Then, he slumps again, shoulders curling as he sinks back in the sheets.
“Mhm,” he hums, eyes closing again. Jo doesn’t realize that his hands are already touching the dancer’s hair, but the other doesn’t seem to mind. “Your bed is really nice. Makes me realize how terrible my mattress actually is.”
He’s slurring his words, obviously still being pulled in by sleep. Cute.
Jo’s brows crease slightly. “You should change out your mattress if it’s this much of a nuisance to your sleep.”
“I can’t...” Taki interrupts himself by stifling a yawn. “I can’t afford it right now.”
I’ll get you a new mattress, Jo’s mind supplies. I’ll get you as many mattresses as you want in your lifetime.
“But I have some money saved up,” Taki adds. “I just have to suck it up a couple more weeks, and then I’ll be able to even think about buying a new mattress.”
“Alright,” Taki isn’t a charity case, so Jo won’t treat him like one. “In the meantime, if you ever want some reprieve from your bed...”
The dancer opens his eyes and smiles cheekily at the actor. “What, you’re leaving the space beside you open?”
Jo knows it’s cheesy as hell. He also smiles anyway. “Yeah, I am.”
The way Taki’s eyes disappear makes Jo’s heart sing in glee. “God, you’re so cringe, Jo-kun.”
Taki leans forward with the force of his giggles, forehead hitting Jo’s shoulder. Their feet tangle together under the covers as they both laugh against each other.
“I’m serious, don’t laugh at me,” the actor whines. “This is what I get for being nice, huh.”
“Aigoo, don’t pout,” Taki nudges Jo with his head slightly, peering up at him through the fallen hair in his eyes after. “Do you have anything to do today?”
“No,” Jo answers. “You?”
Taki's cheeks are starting to hurt from how much smiling he’s doing. “Me neither.”
Let’s stay here and enjoy the morning a bit more.
They don’t get up until past ten o’clock.
💭
Taki doesn’t typically use his phone during lessons, but it just so happens that Yuma is walking by when his phone rings. He picks it up from the pocket of his bag and brings it to Taki when the dancer is standing on one side of the room, watching Nicholas lead the third batch of students through a routine. “Taki-kun, your phone is ringing.”
Taki’s brows scrunch in confusion, looking down at the device Yuma handed him.
080-xxxx-xxx
Euijoo-hyung.
Immediately, Taki whispers a rushed “I’m taking a call,” to Harua as he passes him, before sprinting to the bathroom. After confirming he’s alone, he answers the call.
“もしもし?“
”Taki-yah,” it sounds like Euijoo-hyung is whispering, too. “I’m sorry to call, but are you busy?”
I am, is what Taki should say. “Why? Did something happen to Jo-kun?”
“Oh, nothing bad has happened,” the manager reassures. Taki feels his nerves loosen. “Jo just feels a little under the weather and his assistant isn’t here. I’m about to leave to tend to a matter and I thought of calling you, if you have time.”
I’m in the middle of work.
“I’ll come, hyung,” Taki says. “Where are you?”
💭
Jo has felt unwell since the morning, but it isn’t as bad as it could be. He powers through it like the true celebrity he is, even with his head pounding.
He doesn’t tell anyone about what he’s feeling, but they can all tell that he’s not at his usual strength.
The first to comment on it is his makeup noona, Mina-san, during a touch-up. “Jo-kun, are you alright?”
“Hm?” Jo opens his eyes and suddenly finds the lights of the studio too bright. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
“If you need to lie down for a bit...” Mina-san starts, “The shoot can be delayed for a little while.”
“Oh, I’d hate to waste everyone’s time,” Jo shakes his head lightly, and he regrets it when his head throbs again. “As long as I’m not contagious, I can do it.”
“If you say so,” Mina-san hums. “Where is Maki-kun, by the way? I haven’t seen him around.”
“He took the day off. It’s okay, I don’t need much, anyway,” Jo reassures. Mina-san eventually leaves when the photoshoot resumes, and Jo pushes against the ache in his temples.
There’s a discussion between the photographer and creative director, so everyone is granted a 5-minute break while they sort it out. Jo doesn’t go far—he finds a plastic chair in a corner and sits down with his arms crossed and his eyes closed, trying to will his headache away.
He hears everything and nothing in his surroundings, notices every scent yet fails to remember any distinct ones. He hears the conversation around him, but doesn’t retain any solid information. Someone said something about a change of clothes.
No one comes to get him for a while, or so he feels.
“Jo-kun?”
His eyes immediately open, now alert, and come face-to-face with a figure that looks a little blurry from having his eyes shut. The person wears a mask and a cap, but their eyes look kind.
“Yes?” Jo’s posture straightens. “I’m sorry, I dozed off. Shall we get back to the shoot?”
“Before that, they told me to tell you to go to your dressing room first,” the person tells him.
“Oh?” Jo stands up nonetheless. “What for?”
The person doesn’t answer, and by then, Jo is already walking towards his dressing room. When he arrives, however, there’s no one there.
He turns around with a crease in his brows, just as the person has locked the door after him. “What is it exactly that they want me to do?”
The person stares at him with a quiet firmness. “They want you to rest.”
What?
“I said I was fine,” he insists, and although he maintains a polite tone, it’s slowly starting to get on his nerves. He wants this over with since everyone has already dedicated their time to him. “Really, I don’t mind—”
“Jo-kun,” the masked person interrupts. “Sit down and rest, please.”
Recognition lights Jo’s body up from every nerve, and the tension in his body loosens. “Riki.”
The person takes off the mask and it is Taki, who smiles when the actor lunges at him, arms wrapping around like he hasn’t seen him for long.
(He saw Taki two days ago.)
“Yah, calm down,” the dancer can’t help but giggle. When Jo pulls away, Taki sees the sparkle in his eyes and feels warm from it.
“What are you doing here?” Jo breathes out. “What about work?”
“Work is fine,” Taki tells him. “But you don’t seem to be. Euijoo-hyung called me and told me you felt unwell, so I’m here to try and make you feel better.”
Just seeing you is enough.
The actor doesn’t even notice how Taki has gently guided him to the couch provided in the room, eyes trained on Taki the entire time.
“I’m fine,” he says again for what feels like the hundredth time, except he actually means it this time. “Seriously, I am. Just seeing you is...”
“Oh, so you’re also like this when you’re sick,” Taki laughs. He’s standing in front of Jo now, and he holds his face in his hands, careful not to ruin his makeup.
“Aigoo-yah,” Taki murmurs, voice low. “Jo-chan, you feel a bit warm. You really should rest, hm?”
Jo’s eyes close when the other starts to stroke his hair, hairstyle be damned. Mina-san will fix it for him, anyway.
Taki is slowly starting to understand the effect he has on the actor, which is dangerous, considering Jo would fall to his knees willingly if Taki even remotely hints for him to do so.
“How long have you felt like this, Jo-kun?” The dancer takes the opportunity to ask.
“Dunno,” Jo slurs lazily, entranced by the hands in his hair. “This morning, I think. My head just started to ache a little.”
“Mhm,” Taki hums to show he’s listening. “And did the pain get worse just now?”
“No,” Jo mumbles. “‘S the same. But it got better when you came.”
Taki sighs helplessly. He can’t tell if Jo is being cheesy again or if the throb in his head has been alleviated somehow.
“Still, you should rest for a while. No one thinks you’re a problem. Everyone knows how hard you work.”
His voice is lulling Jo to sleep, finally giving in to his exhaustion.
“‘Kay,” Jo manages to say. “I’ll rest for 10 minutes.”
“Longer.”
“No, it’s enough. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”
Taki doesn’t respond immediately. Then, “As long as you feel like you can continue. Then, you go home. Okay?”
Jo nods, drunk and dizzy with his affection. “Yes, boss.”
💭
Jo’s fame does not allow him to go out to dinner normally without being spotted. Almost every time he’s out and about, news of his whereabouts spreads fast across social media.
Maybe it’s luck or pure chance that he and Taki are able to go to a restaurant without having someone chase their tails. To enjoy the full dining experience, he has even booked a private room so that they’re free to act however they’d like.
There’s no particular reason for them to go out to dinner tonight except for the fact that they just want to. Jo has been browsing online for different restaurants to try out, and Taki sat beside him and helped him narrow it down. Tonight, this is the one they try.
After a bottle of wine and just about the entire menu later, they migrate to the balcony, which displays a wonderful view of Tokyo at night.
The wind howls softly but bites with the cold, so Jo lends Taki his coat like a true gentleman. With their shoulders pressed against each other’s, they lean against the railing and overlook the view.
Taki looks up at the vast, wide sky littered with specks of illuminated dots, his whole body buzzing with the warmth of the alcohol they drank. “The moon looks really pretty, doesn’t it?”
Jo follows his gaze. Then, he looks at Taki, with his flushed face and serene expression. “It does.”
Taki looks at him, too.
I let you set the pace.
The dancer looks away first and redirects his gaze to the scenery again. “I haven’t had the opportunity to say this properly, but... I’ve really enjoyed life with you, Jo-kun. It feels like my life has been happier since I met you.”
Because I’m not thinking straight.
Jo’s fists clench from where his arms lean against the railings. With the wine earlier acting like liquid courage, it takes true herculean effort to hold himself back from spilling out his feelings in a big, messy pile during this vulnerable moment. “I’ve enjoyed life with you, too.”
My head is spinning around, and I can’t see clearly anymore.
There are three words that bubble in Jo’s chest, ready to explode and reveal themselves in their ugliest form, an overflowing pot of the worst parts of himself crammed under the porcelain cover of his love.
Taki looks at him again with nothing but pure affection.
What are you waiting for?
On a cold evening in Tokyo, with the wind biting his cheeks and nipping at his ears, Taki whispers his truth.
“I think I love you, Jo-kun.”
It seems like the world slows down around them.
Jo’s heart stops beating for a second.
When it restarts, he has already pushed himself off the railing and surged forward to cup Taki’s face and smash their mouths together—a true testament to what he feels, revealed amidst the chilling weather of Tokyo.
When they pull away, breaths mingling and panting against each other, Jo feels like crying.
“Fuck, do you mean that?” he asks shakily. “Do you really mean that, Riki?”
“Yes,” The dancer laughs. “I mean it. I love you, Jo-kun.”
“Fuck,” Jo kisses him again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t believe it. You... I love you so much. I can’t live without you. Don’t make me—please, don’t make me live without you.”
“You don’t have to,” Taki shakes his head. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Jo is aware of how pathetic he seems right now, but unfortunately, he does not care. He knows it’s his true nature to be pathetic and hopelessly in love, hidden under his public image as a calm and composed actor.
When he thinks of Taki, all he can see is the rest of his life spent beside his greatest love, with a daughter that he takes care of at home while Taki goes to work.
They don’t get home until midnight—and even then, Jo refuses to let go of Taki.
💭
[SIX (6) MESSAGES]
[FROM: jo-chan ❤️]
Good morning, jagiya
Did I say that right?
Hope you have a good day :)
I’ll see you later
Are you busy?
Maybe I’m too tiring :’)
HELLO
not at all jo-chan!!!!
and yes you said it correctly hehe
i’ll see u later :>
❤️
:)
❤️