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Mitsuki panted, holding one hand to his chest while the other kept him up against the wall. A sigh came out of his lips, before he turned and sat down on the floor, back pressed against the mirrors that covered all the walls. He looked up at the ceiling and played with the neck of his shirt before he turned and looked at the mirror. A soft smile drew onto his lips as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
“What are you doing here so late?” A familiar voice sounded in the room. He hadn't realized the door was open. He hadn't realized he was being watched.
The soft smile changed, in a way it became more genuine.
“Yamato. Hi.” He said looking up. “Guess I couldn't sleep.”
“And you decided to practice.” Yamato said, a sarcastic smile on his lips.
“Guess I did”
Then, a body came to his side. Warm. Present. So different from all the voices on his phone screen. He exhaled and closed his eyes and before he knew it, Mitsuki’s head met Yamato’s shoulder, and Yamato's arm came over Mitsuki’s.
“You should be sleeping. You'll be exhausted tomorrow.”
“I know. I know. I just…” He trailed off before he looked up at Yamato. He looked tired himself, but yet he was there. Mitsuki shook his head before he pulled his knees closer until he could lean his head on them. “I kept thinking, and thinking, and…”
Yamato tensed up a bit, almost imperceptibly before he leaned back until his back hit the mirror behind them. Mitsuki looked back at him as he saw that face he knew all too well turn into that scowl.
“Again thinking about Rabbitter trolls?” He ventured, making Mitsuki shake his head. “Then what?”
“About… us.” Mitsuki said before his eyes fell towards their reflection on the mirror in front of them. He observed their form, their faces, their looks. Yamato stiffened, he could see it through the mirror. “This whole thing is much too complicated”
Yamato sighed and looked up at the ceiling, anywhere but the mirror, inadvertently puffing out his chest.
“There's nothing to worry about there. It's okay, we're okay. Don't be…” He started, defensively, but his green eyes met Mitsuki’s big bright orange eyes and he paused. He chuckled softly and lowered his head before his hand met his right cheek. “I'm doing it again, aren't I? Running away.”
Mitsuki nodded. He could feel Yamato's apologetic eyes on him, he could see it through the mirror, but he didn't mind it. In fact, he preferred it.
“Yeah. It's not easy being…”
“An idol.” Mitsuki finished the sentence for him and Yamato rolled his eyes before a playful smile came to his lips.
“An idol.” He conceded, before he leaned closer to him until their thighs met, closing the space between them.
“I just… I don't understand how Momo and Yuki make it seem so… Easy.” Mitsuki said, puffing out his cheeks for a second. Eyes on the reflection instead of the other man. “I just don't understand.”
“... Well, they've been in the game longer than we've been. They know what to say, what to do, how to act” Yamato replied, his eyes inspecting every single inch of Mitsuki's soft face before he poked at his cheek once or twice. “Plus. It's not like their relationship is perfect. You know that much.”
Mitsuki frowned, playfully annoyed before he punched him in the shoulder. Yamato snorted, his laugh booming in the room right after. Not his first time being hit by him. Probably wouldn't be the last either.
“You know…” Yamato started again, fixing his glasses. “I understand that you're worried. Fans can be… merciless, you know that better than anyone. But… we have each other here. No need to act here at least. You can be yourself. We…” Yamato's eyes fell to Mitsuki's lips for a second, making him pause, before they went to the mirror in front of them, but his hand still met his knee and squeezed it softly. “We can be ourselves, Mitsu.”
With a groan of effort (his years were getting to him, like Mitsuki often said to tease him,) he jumped to his feet and dusted himself off before offering the other man his hand.
“C'mon. It's way past midnight. Let's sleep.”
Mitsuki hummed, nodding as he got up with Yamato's help, who caressed his knuckles with a surprising gentleness.
“Thank you, Yamato.”
“It's nothing, Mitsu.”
Mitsuki looked at Yamato. He leaned closer before he pressed his lips against the feverishly warm skin of his cheek and Yamato melted like butter. He leaned into the kiss, his hand caressing Mitsuki's cheek while his eyes closed.
Away from the cameras, away from anyone's gaze.