Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sougo wakes up in the Takanashi Productions practice room the morning after IDOLiSH7’s first year anniversary party with his face pressed firmly into Tsunashi Ryuunosuke’s thigh.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in that situation, although he has a pretty good idea of how it must have gone down. He also doesn’t know why he and Tsunashi Ryuunosuke, sex symbol, were left in the practice room overnight, although he unfortunately has a fairly good idea of how that must have gone down, too.

When he feels something sticky on his face he’s torn between planning out his letter of resignation and thinking ruefully that honestly, he can make a good guess about how that must have happened, too. Thankfully Tsunashi Ryuunosuke, dream husband to women across the country, is still asleep for the three to five seconds it takes for Sougo to stop fantasizing about changing his name and emigrating to Seattle to start a new life and realize that he’s just drooled a bit in his sleep. He allows himself a few seconds of relief that at least that isn’t a conversation he’s going to have to have with his manager this morning, but he catches himself staring at Ryuunosuke like some kind of high school girl, and really, he is a grown man and he needs to get a grip.

By the time the members of TRIGGER are awake and moving around, discussing their alibis for the previous night amongst themselves, Tsumugi has come back to the dorms with breakfast and Sougo has taken a long shower and a few painkillers and has reflected significantly on his actions.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke, possible candidate for sainthood, smiles at Sougo when he sees him and says good morning. Even though last night was definitely his first experience with Sougo when he’s been drinking, Ryuunosuke doesn’t say anything about split personalities or selfish heirs to major financial groups, which is more than any single member of IDOLiSH7 can claim. Sougo returns the greeting reflexively, but he can feel his face burning with shame. He doesn’t manage to make eye contact.

They’re all awake earlier than should be expected for how late they stayed up. Yaotome Gaku appears to have slept in the main room; Riku looks quietly happy, so Sougo can only assume Kujo Tenn slept in his room. Banri is there; he tells them that he took Yuki and Momo back to Yuki’s place at the end of the night. When he’d left that morning Re:vale had still been blissfully asleep.

“When you get to a certain age,” he laughs kindly, “it takes longer for you to recover from this kind of thing.”

Normally, if it were just the seven of them and their manager, Mitsuki would make a light joke about whether or not Sougo was likely to ever recover, and Sougo, who has recently been working on developing a sense of humor about himself, might even have laughed a little about it. This morning Mitsuki looks up at their guests, unsure, and swallows the joke, and Sougo nurses his headache and stares fixedly down at his breakfast.

When TRIGGER leaves the sun is just beginning to rise. As long as Ryuunosuke manages to avoid eye contact with any old ladies or teenage girls they should make it back to his car and home undetected. IDOLiSH7 takes a minute as a group to watch them leave from the window above.

“Well,” Yamato laughs, clapping Sougo on the shoulder, “don’t worry about it too much, Sou. Happens to the best of us.”

“Sou-chan’s really a monster when he gets like that,” Tamaki adds unhelpfully. “Pouring him drinks was dumb. Iorin, I thought you were an honor student.”

Iori snaps something back, but Sougo is distracted by Kujo Tenn’s voice floating up from the street below, clipping, “Ryuu, what’s that stain on your leg?” Sougo goes back to mentally composing his own resignation letter.

Anyway, the point is that after that incident Sougo doesn’t see or hear from any member of TRIGGER for a while. In some ways it’s a relief, but in others it’s torture; Yamato tells him that the rumor in the entertainment industry is that President Yaotome had threatened to refuse professional collaboration with IDOLiSH7 unless they stopped mixing so much in their private life. Even so, it’s hard not to worry that his performance at the party might have had something to do with it. Sougo regrets not apologizing to all three of them for his absolutely unforgivable behavior toward a better-established group, but he particularly regrets not apologizing to Tsunashi-san; after all, he’s never been anything but professional and supportive to Sougo, and for that kindness to have been repaid with the rudeness Sougo had displayed -- well, it’s unthinkable.

“Sougo-san, aren’t you excited?”

Sougo looks up at Tsumugi, surprised. He’d been too preoccupied with his own thoughts and had briefly stopped listening. Her face is falling in that way it does when she’s worried she’s said something to upset him; his first instinct is to apologize, but instead he shakes his head and smiles.

“Sorry, what?”

“Geez, Sou-chan, get it together,” Tamaki grumbles, and Sougo decides to pointedly ignore the irony of Tamaki of all people telling him to get it together. “She said that you’ve been offered another drama role.”

“The director of the previous drama you did with Tamaki-kun liked you so much, he asked for you back!” Tsumugi beams proudly. Sougo blinks, unsure how to react. Without thinking, his gaze slips to Tamaki, trying to gauge his reaction. It’s not like Tamaki was ever interested in acting, specifically, but their schedules are built around each other, and Tamaki can be childish about unexpected things. Tamaki, for his part, looks back over at him, expression impassive. He’s not angry, but he was clearly expecting Sougo to look over his way.

“Ah, sorry -- just me?”

“If you don’t mind it,” Tsumugi nods, looking back down at her tablet as if to confirm it one more time. “Ah, it’s not that he didn’t like Tamaki-kun too! He liked both of you, but this role just opened up. I guess there was some sort of scheduling problem with the actor they’d originally cast, and he asked if Sougo-san would be willing to fill in.” Her smile gets brighter as she scans the email again. “He says that you were easy to work with.”

Sougo can feel something in his stomach twist: happiness at being praised, maybe, along with added pressure not to refuse.

“What about MEZZO”?”

Tamaki leans toward him. Sougo thinks he’s going to jostle his shoulder, but Tamaki doesn’t quite make contact. They aren’t the same as they were before the incident with Aya, not really, but it isn’t that their relationship is worse than before, either. They’re just something different now, and Sougo can see that Tamaki is trying to figure it out in the same way that he is.

“I’ve got school stuff coming up,” his shrug carries through his voice, “and I bet Iorin already bossed Manager around about lightening my schedule up.” Sougo looks up and sees Tsumugi’s confirming blush. “Sou-chan,” Tamaki’s voice is more careful than usual, “I don’t mind or anything, but it’s still gonna be more work than usual, so don’t do it if you don’t wanna.”

“I think it would be a good opportunity, for what it’s worth.” It’s rare for Tsumugi to offer a concrete opinion on their work, and it takes Sougo by surprise. “You’ll be playing another love interest character, but it’s a more important part this time, and it’s pretty different from the previous one. I’ve only just looked over the information the director sent over, but it’s airing later than your first drama, and the target audience is a bit older - when the director was telling me about it, I kept thinking how much I’d like to see you in this kind of role.”

“Hmm, let me see,” Sougo doesn’t even notice Yamato has come over until he’s directly behind them, taking the tablet with the information about the part from their manager. “Sou, last time you lost out to Tama, right?” It isn’t like his character had ever really been in the running, of course, but Sougo doesn’t argue. “I’ll be hoping for your success… but it doesn’t seem that likely.” Yamato reads out loud, voice distant, partially lost in the materials on the drama. “‘Arata is the main character’s best friend. They’ve always been together, and he’s loved her all this time, but he’s never told her. He’s a quiet character who has given up on himself before he even tried.’” His voice is unusually serious, and somehow even though he’s just reading off a character description Sougo feels himself being drawn in. He catches himself, thinks ruefully: that’s the difference between Yamato-san and me.

“Sou-chan, you sound lame. You better turn it down. You’re gonna get a reputation as some kind of loser.”

“I actually like this screenwriter a lot, though,” Yamato laughs at Tamaki, handing the tablet over to Sougo. “She wrote that second minor drama role I did, I don’t know if you remember or not.”

Sougo does. He’d rarely watched television before coming to Takanashi Productions, but he’s watched every episode of every show Yamato has ever acted in, crammed together in the dormitory common room with the rest of IDOLiSH7. He notices Yamato’s expression in that moment - it’s rare for their leader’s smile to reach his eyes, but somehow this time it does. “It’s hard to explain, but there’s kind of a meat to her characters, you know? Somehow, you want to do a good job with them. Besides,” he claps Sougo on the shoulder, teasing laughter still chasing the back of his voice, “It’s not all bad being the underdog. It gives people something to root for, or something.”

Tamaki says something back at Yamato, but Sougo isn’t listening. He scans the materials; Yamato and Tsumugi are right. The role looks interesting. If you’d asked Sougo what he wanted to do as an idol, he probably wouldn’t have even thought to mention acting - he’d always just wanted to sing. But something about it, about the pitch, about being told “He said you were easy to work with,” about the way Yamato’s smile is reaching his eyes, catches his interest.

“I’ll do it.” He offers the tablet back to his manager, who has been watching him with concern. “Please let me do it.”

She’s clearly momentarily surprised, but her expression quickly shifts to a wide smile. “Okay! I’ll call him right now and let him know you’re interested!”

After their meeting wraps up, he and Tamaki get into the car to drive to an interview. Banri’s driving; they used to be able to take the train, but lately as IDOLiSH7 has gotten better known it’s become less and less of an option. Sougo takes the time to read the script for the drama’s first episode. Yamato was right; it’s well-written, and something about the character makes Sougo want to do his best.

“Well? Look fun?”

Sougo isn’t expecting Tamaki’s question. He supposes it’s not surprising that he’d be curious, though; it’s their first project separate from one another.

“Yeah, it’s interesting. You were right, my character is pretty pathetic, though. I bet most of the people watching will be rooting for this bad boy with a heart of gold character.” He smiles over at Tamaki. “Like Yamato-san said, I’ve got to do my best to get people to root for my character instead.”

“Hey, Sou-chan,” Tamaki says, and Sougo looks up at him, surprised. “We’ve still got interviews and stuff in the afternoons. And concerts sometimes, and the TV show.” He leans his head against the car window, staring at the scenery rushing by. “It’s gonna get busier from now on, so you gotta be careful not to overdo it.” For someone so volatile, it always surprises Sougo how placid Tamaki can be, too. The other members of IDOLiSH7 fidget; Yamato cleans his glasses, Riku bounces his leg. Even Iori taps his fingers when he’s lost in thought. Tamaki sits perfectly still, leans back, like he’s conserving energy. When he meets Sougo’s stare his expression hovers somewhere between embarrassed and earnest. “We’ll cover for you, so you gotta tell us -- tell me -- if you need a break.”

Sougo’s taken aback, but then he thinks -- ah, because I told him I’m watching out for him. His laugh is quiet but affectionate, and it surprises him almost as much as it seems to surprise Tamaki.

“Thanks, Tamaki-kun. I’ll do my best to let you know.”

“Not good enough,” Tamaki’s retort is too fast, but he doesn’t really sound annoyed. “Don’t do your best, just do it, okay?” Sougo looks down at the script in his lap, smiles.

“Okay.”

Sougo has a good feeling about the drama. He likes the script more and more with every reread, and he prepares obsessively even before meeting with the director. When he walks in for his first cast read-through he’s feeling confident, at least until he barrels around a corner a little too quickly and slams into someone coming from the opposite direction.

His head is down and he’s apologizing profusely before he even manages to recover his balance from being knocked backward. The person he bumped into reaches out and steadies him. Sougo is running through mental simulations of how he’ll ever manage to apologize when he hears, “Sougo-kun?” and looks up to meet Tsunashi Ryuunosuke's eyes.

Sougo blinks twice, stupidly. Then he nods, even more stupidly. When he finally manages to mumble out a response a few seconds later it’s like his tongue is sluggish, half-numb. “Tsunashi-san, I’m so sorry, I should have been looking where I was going, I know there’s no way to apologize, but please--”

Thankfully, Ryuunosuke cuts him off, saving him from having to continue. Which he would have, probably indefinitely. “I thought it was you!” His smile appears totally genuine, like he’s completely happy to have run into Sougo at full speed in the middle of a hall, even though he’s incredibly busy and probably has somewhere important to be that now he’s running late for. “It’s been ages -- ah, but I’ve been watching IDOLiSH7’s show every week! You look great, how have you been doing?”

Sougo doesn’t feel like he looks good; he feels like he looks like he’s been hit with a bus. He knows he needs to respond, but he can’t come up with anything besides frantic apologies. This is what happens when you see members of TRIGGER too close-up, he thinks hazily, staring at the way Ryuunosuke’s eyebrows crease slightly together in concern. Especially Tsunashi-san. It’s just a reminder that they aren’t like normal people. That there’s something special about them.

“Sougo-kun, is there something wrong?”

There are five things wrong at this given moment, and he can’t bring himself to verbalize any of them.

First: he had barrelled full-speed into someone in a crowded hallway on the first day of rehearsals, probably forever cementing both himself and Takanashi Productions as unprofessional in the minds of the staff.

Second: the person he had barrelled into was a member of a longer-established group, and that person has yet to accept his apology.

Third: this is only the latest in a series of apologies that Sougo owes to him, as, he remembers suddenly and with total horror, this is the first time they’ve seen each other since the Anniversary Party Incident.

Fourth: Ryuunosuke has long fingers and his eyes are kind and he hasn’t let go of Sougo’s arm.

Fifth, related to the fourth: Sougo knows that Ryuunosuke doesn’t mean anything by it, because he’s kind and would do the same for anyone, but he can’t help feeling conscious of it anyway, hates the heat rising up the back of his neck.

“Ah, that’s right, you and Osaka-kun have already met, haven’t you?” The director comes up behind Ryuunosuke, or maybe he was there all along and Sougo just didn’t see him. “Then that makes things much faster.” They both blink owlishly at him; whatever the director’s talking about, Sougo can tell this is the first time Ryuunosuke’s heard about it, either. “Tsunashi-kun, I called in Osaka-kun for the Arata role when Edano-kun dropped out; I’d forgotten you’d worked together before, but if you’re already acquainted…!” He turns so quickly that Sougo feels himself flinch. Ryuunosuke’s grip on his arm strengthens. Sougo supposes it isn’t on purpose, but he still finds it incredibly embarrassing. “Tsunashi-kun is playing Sawada in the drama.”

Sawada is a new presence in the heroine’s life, Sougo vaguely remembers from the script. He’s an ex-host who own the bar where she recently started working. He’s loose with compliments and even looser with women, but the truth is he’s a good person who just never learned to be alone.

“That’s a great fit.” Sougo probably imagines the embarrassment that flashes momentarily across Ryuunosuke’s face in response to his offhand comment.

“Isn’t it? Anyway, this means that in some sense for the duration for filming you’re rivals,” The director laughs, “although I suppose that mirrors real life as well. Shall we?”

Without any further preamble, the director turns down the hall and starts toward the room where the first reading is scheduled to take place. Ryuunosuke looks down at Sougo, and for a second Sougo’s stomach is in his throat. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to being this close to members of TRIGGER.

“Well, that’s how it is,” Ryuunosuke smiles again. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to be able to work with you again so soon, but I’m really looking forward to it.”

Sougo can feel the heat from the back of his neck rising to his ears, and he nod-bows awkwardly, restricted by Ryuunosuke’s big hands on his arms. “No, of course. I am as well. It’s only my second drama role, so I’m sure I’ll cause all sorts of problems, but I’m in your care.”

The movement seems to alert Ryuunosuke to the placement of his hands for the first time, and Sougo’s certain that he doesn’t imagine the embarrassment on his face this time as he finally lets go. Ryuunosuke shakes it off almost immediately, laughing gently.

“Anyway, shall we go in?”

It’s like a hand reaching out and pulling Sougo up, and he can feel his humiliation and regret over their last interaction sloughing off of him almost immediately. He can’t help but smile back.

Ryuunosuke behaves so normally during filming that Sougo begins wondering if perhaps he hasn’t just selectively forgotten all about IDOLiSH7’s anniversary party. He knows it’s wishful thinking on his part, but he also knows that sometimes people block out traumatic or terrifying experiences entirely, and the fact that Ryuunosuke doesn’t bring up split personalities even once after seeing him drink is frankly unprecedented.

Honestly, Ryuunosuke is a model of professionalism. He’s a pleasure to work with. He’s always positive on set, no matter how early filming begins or how late it runs. He comes prepared, but Sougo can tell from watching his interactions with the director and staff that he takes direction well. It motivates Sougo, makes him want to work harder as well.

It’s after the third time that Ryuunosuke runs interference for him at after-filming parties, drinking in his place or distracting staff members who are particularly insistent on Sougo drinking, that Sougo has to admit to himself that he probably hasn’t forgotten.

“You did remember,” he mutters at Ryuunosuke one night. It’s a rare quiet moment. Something toward the front of the room has distracted the staff, and he’s left seated next to Ryuunosuke, nursing his juice. Ryuunosuke’s face is flushed; he’s been drinking steadily throughout the evening, but he doesn’t look likely to break out in song or anything for the time being.

“It would be hard to forget,” Ryuunosuke admits, laughing. Sougo can feel shame washing over him once again, as raw as the morning he woke up with his face pressed into Ryuunosuke’s leg. He knows that this time he has to apologize, and he bows his head, begins,

“I know there’s no way I can possibly apologize enough for my behavior at that time, but --” Ryuunosuke cuts him off with a wave of the hand, dismissing Sougo’s apology without actually being dismissive.

“Nah, don’t worry about it -- I said so at the time, didn’t I?” Realization dawns across Ryuunosuke’s face as it seems to occur to him that Sougo may not remember, and Sougo begins fantasizing about burying himself in a pit full of sand. Ryuunosuke’s smile is kind, which doesn’t make Sougo feel much better. “It really seems like you’re not normally the type to depend on other people, so when you got all demanding like that, it was actually kind of cute, you know? It’s nice to be needed by other people. Especially people you like.”

There are a number of adjectives and verbs in Ryuunosuke’s little speech that make Sougo’s head spin, and he stares into his own glass, beet red, and mutters, “Tsunashi-san, you’re only saying that because you’re kind. There’s nothing cute about a grown man making tyrannical demands of the people around him, particularly not when he uses alcohol as an excuse to do so.”

Ryuunosuke shakes his head. The motion seems to momentarily set him off-balance, and he leans into Sougo’s shoulder. It’s just a moment, but Sougo can feel his hair brush against his cheek. He goes totally still, even when Ryuunosuke rights himself, voice insistent.

“No, Sougo-kun, you were cute. It was cute.” His expression is strange, like he’s thinking about something else, far away. Somehow it makes Sougo feel a bit lonely. “It’s nice to have demands made of you sometimes. Makes you feel loved.”

Sougo feels acutely how stiff his posture is, can’t stop himself from arguing, “Even if you say so, I can’t justify behaving so inappropriately with members of a better-established group. Drinking doesn’t excuse it. I have to work to control myself better.”

Ryuunosuke sighs, a dramatic noise he’d never have let out if he hadn’t been drinking. “I wish you’d be less formal with me, Sougo-kun. After all, this is our second major project together, and we’re co-stars, and honestly, I really don’t mind.”

It’s not the first time Tsunashi-san has asked him to drop the formalities, but even thinking about something so inappropriate sends Sougo into a mental tailspin. He just can’t imagine himself doing it.

“Even when you were out of your mind,” Ryuunosuke laughs, and Sougo whips his head around, goggling at him, “you still called me ‘Tsunashi-san’, you know?” Ryuunosuke’s expression is affectionate, and maybe a little regretful. “That was cute, too, but it was kind of too bad.”

I’m a man, Sougo thinks, so it doesn’t make me happy to be called cute. His hands clench and unclench in his lap, frustrated. It looks like Ryuunosuke has something else to say, but at that moment Banri and Kaoru arrive to pick the two of them up, and the party begins to wind down as its two handsomest members stumble toward the door, legs numb from disuse.

“I don’t mind it,” Ryuunosuke continues when they’re in the entrance hall, putting their shoes on. “I don’t even mind you using ‘san.’” He’s definitely unsteady on his feet, and Kaoru shoots them both an accusatory look, like he doesn’t quite know who to direct his wrath toward. “It’s fine for you to go at your own pace, you know? It’s just -- my friends call me Ryuu.”

Later, in the car on the way home, Sougo listens politely to Banri’s chatter about the schedule for the following day, stares out of the window and thinks about the flush of Ryuunosuke’s cheeks, the way his hair had felt against his face, the way he sounded when he’d said ‘Sougo-kun.’ It isn’t fair for one person to be that erotic, Sougo thinks. Even if the person in question isn’t doing it on purpose.

“Banri-san,” he asks, “Yuki-san and Momo-san -- they call you Ban-san, right?”

“Momo does,” Banri laughs. “Out of habit, I guess, and because for a while that’s probably the only name he knew me by. I don’t remember the last time Yuki called me by my full name, and he’s never once called me anything-san.” It’s unlike Banri to roll his eyes, but Sougo could swear he does. “I’d say he probably doesn’t remember it, but that would really be underselling Yuki’s memory for pointless facts.”

“Did Yuki-san always call you that?”

“Mmm, not initially - you know, he’s the type who’s slow to warm up to others.” Banri’s fingers flex around the steering wheel, and Sougo briefly wonders if he’s touched on something he shouldn’t. Banri’s grip loosens in a second, however, and he smiles affectionately, as if remembering something good. “But we were together for a long time, even before Re:Vale, and once Yuki decided we were friends, he really lost all pretense.” Banri laughs again, quietly. “He’d be embarrassed to hear me say it, though.”

Sougo picks at his cuff nervously. Traffic is barely moving. Even though it’s late the roads are still busy, and he feels an off-hand pang of regret at making Banri come all this way just to get him.

“Do you like it?” He hears his own words before he even registers that he’s thinking them, and when Banri shoots him a questioning look he feels his face burning. He keeps his gaze on the window, watching for Banri’s response in the reflection. “Being called Ban-san.”

Banri muses, “It’s not about liking it or not liking it; at this point, it’s basically just a given.” Just as Sougo is feeling stupid about the question, Banri interjects, “Still.” His voice is kind. Sougo feels like he’s sizing him up through his peripheral vision, and he’s suddenly incredibly glad they’re alone for this conversation. If Banri’s looking at him this curiously, Sougo can only imagine what Tamaki’s reaction would be. “It’s nice to hear again. It reminds me of old times, and it feels like maybe, even after all this time -- our relationship has changed, but not totally. Like our feelings are still the same.”

If Banri has any deeper feelings on the subject, they’re unreadable in his expression. Sougo turns back to the window and thinks about Ryuunosuke’s face when he’d placed a hand on Sougo’s shoulder, laughed plaintively and said that his friends called him Ryuu.

Sougo knows that he can’t be friends with Tsunashi Ryuunosuke for any number of reasons, but he stares at his reflection in the glass, screws up his courage and mouths the syllables of “Ryuu-san” to the passing traffic. For practice.

With the drama, IDOLiSH7’s variety show, various interviews and photo shoots for both IDOLiSH7 and MEZZO”, and performances, Sougo is easily the busiest member of his group. Ryuunosuke is similarly busy; it seems like every day he appears in some new ad or magazine spread, and TRIGGER as a group is omnipresent in the media. Still, in spite of that, they end up spending a fair amount of time together during filming. Sougo doesn’t know if it’s because they’re the two idols in the cast, or because they’ve worked together before, or because they’re around the same age, but Ryuunosuke does seem to seek him out. They get meals together and they spend time talking during breaks in filming. Ryuunosuke takes to having coffee in Sougo’s changing room in the morning, chatting aimlessly as they go over the script.

At one point Sougo can’t help asking, feeling shy,

“Tsunashi-san, I’d heard that members of TRIGGER were forbidden from spending excessive time with our group; will you be all right?”

Ryuunosuke looks momentarily surprised by the question, but he laughs, claps Sougo’s shoulder gently. “Even if that’s true, you’re my co-star; there’s nothing wrong with being friendly with the people you’re working with, is there?”

Sougo can’t argue with that, and in spite of how shy he suddenly feels he catches himself smiling. Ryuunosuke smiles back at him, open and warm. Sougo knows that it isn’t like he’s being treated specially; Tsunashi-san would say the same thing to anyone in IDOLiSH7, or any of his co-workers, because he’s a kind person. Even so, there’s nothing false about Ryuunosuke’s kindness, and Sougo reaches over and grabs his cup of coffee, stands up and heads over to get them both a refill. He doesn’t think much of it.

That night he dreams: about large hands gripping at his hips hard enough to bruise, about long eyelashes. The man in his dream kneels down and hooks Sougo’s leg over his shoulder, bites at his inner thigh. The tickling of his hair on Sougo’s skin feels familiar, somehow. He doesn’t think anything of it until Ryuunosuke looks up, eyes dark, and says his name, and Sougo shocks awake.

It’s been ages since he’s had a dream like that about anyone that he knows - since college, maybe. He gulps down air, sweating, and tries to ignore how painfully hard he is.

He knows it doesn’t mean anything; he’s stressed out, and he hasn’t been sleeping well, and dorm life and idol life have meant that he hasn’t gotten laid since he joined Takanashi Productions, so he’s definitely pent-up. He’s been seeing Tsunashi-san a lot lately, and if he was going to have a sex dream about anyone Ryuunosuke is an obvious choice.

He doesn’t jerk off, even though he’s aching to, because somehow even now Ryuunosuke’s face keeps flickering in and out of his mind. He knows that all of his insistence that it’s a normal biological reaction and that probably plenty of people have gotten off thinking about TRIGGER’s most erotic member won’t make him feel any less awkward in the morning when they have to film together. So he thinks about literally anything else -- his lines for tomorrow’s scenes, and his schedule for the next few days, and whether or not Tamaki is studying properly under Iori’s tutelage. He mentally lists discographies and goes through his times tables, and when even that isn’t enough to calm him down, he mentally goes through every single mistaken encounter he had in college until he’s so exhausted he falls asleep.

The next morning he feels fine. He knows it was a moment of weakness, and that he probably just needs to find some way to blow off steam when he gets busy like this. He doesn’t feel awkward when he meets Ryuunosuke for morning coffee, or when they mark their next scene together. When, during filming, Ryuunosuke-as-Sawada pulls his chin up to get a better look at his face, he doesn’t feel embarrassed, even though he’d be lying if he tried to claim that he didn’t think about it for just a little bit.

Later, after filming has wrapped for the day, Sougo has a few quiet moments to himself. He has a little bit of free time before Tamaki and Banri come pick him up for his next interview, so he has his headphones on and is listening to music while he’s going over the director’s notes for the next episode.

When Ryuunosuke taps him on the hand he pulls one of the earbuds out, embarrassed by the way the music blares out of it. He worries briefly that the staff was bothered by the noise, but Ryuunosuke just looks curious, asks,

“What’re you listening to?”

“It’s a really old album,” he replies, embarrassed. “An independent rock band from the nineties -- someone a long time ago recommended it to me, and I’ve always liked it.” Ryuunosuke hums his understanding.

“Sougo-kun, I think I read in an interview that you’re really into rock, right?” Sougo shelves his numerous questions about why Ryuunosuke reads his interviews and why he would remember such pointless information, nods in agreement. “It’s sort of surprising, isn’t it? An idol into rock.”

“Not at all!” Sougo surprises himself with the warmth of his retort. “I’ve always liked pop music; if rock is reflective of discourse and protest, of social concerns of an era, that time period’s pop music is reflective of the official narrative -- of what’s popular, acceptable. Rock exists as a response to pop music, and pop constantly is taking influence from rock.” He’s normally pretty good at reading the mood of a room, and Ryuunosuke is staring at him like he’s grown a second head, but Sougo has a point to make, so he continues. “I guess you could say it’s like a conversation. Anyway, plenty of idol groups are practically rock; I mean, TRIGGER’s influences--” and then he stops short, because he realizes suddenly that he’s in the middle of extolling the musical virtues of TRIGGER to a member of TRIGGER. Ryuunosuke’s expression is a little surprised, but not unkind. It doesn’t stop the heat from rising up Sougo’s spine, across his neck and ears. He feels ashamed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean --”

Ryuunosuke shakes his head, and Sougo remembers again, with a pang of something like regret, how kind he is. Unexpectedly, he gestures to Sougo’s earbud.

“Do you mind?”

Sougo shakes his head dumbly and proffers his unused earbud.

“I don’t know if it’ll be to your taste, but--”

Ryuunosuke takes the headphone with a smile, sits down next to Sougo. Sougo’s shoulder presses into Ryuunosuke’s arm; if he leaned over he could press his temple into his shoulder. He’s so big, Sougo thinks, pointlessly.

“I dunno,” Ryuunosuke says, “I don’t know that much about this kind of stuff, but it’s interesting to hear you talk about it. Might as well try it out.”

He puts the earbud in, and for a few minutes they sit quietly, listening. When the track ends Sougo looks over, feeling shy, and is gratified to see Ryuunosuke nodding his head.

“They’re good; they sound really familiar, even though I’ve definitely never heard them before.”

“Yeah, for an indie band they’re really well known, lots of groups have cited them as inspiration.” Sougo smiles, feeling excited. “This was their first album, it was released in the mid-nineties; by their third album they’d gotten way more experimental, but I’ve always liked their first album the best.” He looks over at Ryuunosuke, whose expression is difficult to place. “Sorry, am I boring you?”

“Oh,” says Ryuunosuke, startled, like he’d been thinking about something. “No,” he says. Their eyes meet. The next track on the album continues to blare out of Ryuunosuke’s abandoned earbud, quiet and tinny. “I was just thinking: I’d thought this before, but Sougo-kun, you’re really cool.”

It’s at this moment that Sougo begins to think he may have a problem.

Thankfully, Sougo is too busy in the following days to really sit down with his own thoughts about Tsunashi Ryuunosuke. It’s decided that Tamaki will make a guest appearance in one of the later episodes of the drama, which causes President Takanashi to decide that it’s about time for MEZZO” to release another single.

Tamaki is on his best behavior during filming. There’s something about Ryuunosuke that really brings out the teenager in him, and even though the two of them haven’t seen each other since the anniversary party, they fall easily into the same familiar banter they’d enjoyed during the preparation for their shuffle units. After Tamaki’s scenes are finished, the three of them get management’s permission to go out to lunch and Ryuunosuke takes them to a little shop in his neighborhood. Watching the affectionate way Ryuunosuke laughs and ruffles Tamaki’s hair, Sougo’s struck by what a good older brother he must be. Then he remembers that in interviews Ryuunosuke had mentioned that he thought of the two of them like cute younger brothers and his stomach drops miserably.

He’s only distracted by the thought for a minute, but it must show, because Tamaki takes the opportunity to lean over to Ryuunosuke and ask,

“Hey, Ryuu-aniki, I know you guys aren’t supposed to hang out with us anymore or whatever, but does that mean we don’t get to come over to your place again?”

Sougo’s head snaps back up almost automatically.

“Tamaki, don’t be rude. There’s no way we could impose --”

Tamaki’s frustration is apparent. “Whatever, Sou-chan. Ryuu-aniki invited us, and last time we went you were so excited you barely slept for days befo--” Whatever humiliating thing Tamaki was about to say is cut off when Sougo grabs his partner’s arm with an insistence he didn’t even know he was capable of. “Ow, cut it out!”

Ryuunosuke ignores the shade of green Sougo has turned, smiles at Tamaki and says, “Well, I did invite you both, and I like spending time together like this,” Because we’re like younger brothers, Sougo thinks wretchedly, “so we might be able to make it work. It’s true that TRIGGER is supposed to avoid spending time with you guys, but I don’t think there’s anything stopping us while we’re on the press junket for the drama.” Sougo immediately begins to protest, but Tamaki shoots him a victorious look. Ryuunosuke turns to Sougo, directs that dazzling smile his way. Sougo’s head swims. “I really don’t mind! Or like, I’d like for you two to come over.”

Sougo wants to argue. Professionally, he knows it’s difficult for Ryuunosuke to spend time with them. On a personal level, the idea of playing the younger brother role to his current object of -- affection? lust? whatever? -- seems like a new and inventive form of torture. But he can’t help feeling happy that a member of TRIGGER - that someone like Ryuunosuke - would want to spend time with him at all.

Tamaki knows that something is up, because he keeps shooting him knowing looks that, thankfully, Ryuunosuke doesn’t seem to notice. Sougo isn’t worried. The chances of a kid like Tamaki putting together what exactly has Sougo so worked up are close to zero. Sougo excuses himself anyway, ducks into the bathroom to splash water on his face and give his reflection in the mirror a brief pep talk about how he’d sworn to abandon his earthly desires when he’d become an idol.

When he’s almost back at their booth he hears Tamaki’s voice, insistent.

“Sou-chan’s like. I dunno. He’s way too focused on what other people want.”

Sougo can hear the laughter in Ryuunosuke’s voice as he replies,

“That isn’t a bad thing, you know. I think as an idol it’s a good quality to have.”

“Yeah, but.” Tamaki argues, impolite.

The second I leave! Sougo thinks furiously.

“He spends so much time thinking about what other people want, he doesn’t think about what he wants at all.” Sougo knows that he needs to let them know that he’s back, that he’s close enough to overhear this, but he’s rooted in place. In spite of his complaining, Tamaki doesn’t sound angry at all - resigned, maybe, and perhaps a little sad. “He wants to hang out with you.” He can hear Ryuunosuke shift in his seat, and Sougo is suddenly terrified - of being found out, of overhearing Ryuunosuke’s reply, of the way all of his blood is rushing to his head.

“Sougo-kun is lucky to have you for a partner, Tamaki-kun.”

“Well, duh.” Sougo’s torn between affection and a deep desire to throttle Tamaki, both for his comments and his self-satisfied tone. “Sou-chan’s watching out for me, so I gotta watch out for him, too. ‘Cause he’s not gonna look out for himself.”

And just like that Sougo feels like a weight has been lifted, starts to move again. He arrives back at the booth just in time to hear Tamaki say, “And like, when we come over next time, I wanna play video games or something. Nothing lame like cards.”

He’s been thinking about what to do about his crush on Ryuunosuke for days with no good answer, and in a moment of weakness he looks up from his well-hidden copy of What To Do When You Love Someone You Shouldn’t and asks Iori, who is sitting watching television in the common room,

“Iori-kun, let’s say, in a hypothetical situation, think of it like a fable -- maybe like Romeo and Juliet? Only Juliet has no idea Romeo is in love with her, or maybe just hung up on her, and anyway it’s not really that easy to figure out their relationship --”

“Osaka-san, when you phrase things like this, you know it really just further obfuscates things, right? If you would like my input, I really need you to be clear about what’s going on.”

Riku sticks his head in from the kitchen, expression concerned, asks,

“Sougo-san, you didn’t happen to run into Aya-chan again, did you?”

Sougo picks his book back up. He decides that as far as figuring this particular problem out, he’s probably on his own.

“So for the next several days we’ll be working in subunits,” Tsumugi says, wrapping up their weekly group meeting. “Tamaki-kun and Iori-kun’s exams are next week, so we’ve kept their appearance schedule light while they prepare. Pythagoras Fighters and Riku-kun will handle the majority of variety shows.” She turns to face Sougo, checking down at her tablet as if confirming what she already knows. “Sougo-san has filming for his final drama episode in Kyushu, so he'll be taking a two day trip and spending the night with the crew.”

“Sorry for causing all of this trouble,” Sougo begins to apologize, but Tsumugi steps back, shakes her head, anticipating his response.

“Not at all! I think Banri-san is looking forward to the excuse for a trip, and anyway this is also part of your work. Please don’t apologize.” Sougo nods, thinks to himself about how much their manager has grown into her job since they first started.

“A trip to Kyushu with a member of TRIGGER, huh?” Yamato teases, “Good for you, Sou. You’ve really arrived.” Sougo tries not to stiffen up guiltily, glances over at their leader to see if he can gauge if he’s suspicious or not. Sougo thinks he’s done a fairly good job of hiding that something is bothering him, but Yamato is terrifyingly sharp about this kind of thing. The meeting wraps after that, and Yamato doesn’t indicate either way whether he meant anything in particular by his comment. When they're packing up he comes up behind Sougo, claps him on the back. “Hey, Sou, come hang out with me for a bit.”

Sougo turns his head, looks up at his groupmate. “I’ve got to go over the script tonight, so I can’t drink--”

“Got it, got it. Anyway, I’ll drink, and you come keep me company. Oh, bring your script. I’ll go over it with you.”

Sougo’s apprehension is outweighed by the chance to talk over his script with an acting veteran like Yamato, and he assents. They say goodnight to the rest of IDOLiSH7, apologize to Mitsuki for abandoning him with all of the minors and walk over to a bar near their dorm.

“Are you stressed out about the script, then?” Yamato asks once they’ve sat down, and even though his expression isn’t worried Sougo can tell he's checking in on him. He feels a wave of relief that Yamato has misunderstood his preoccupation, then guilt - for misleading his friends, and for not focusing more on his work. He nods mutely, passes the manuscript over to Yamato. “Talk me through it.”

“I’m the romantic rival,” Sougo begins, “And Tsunashi-san -- Sawada -- is the love interest. In the penultimate episode the main character and Sawada separate, and she decides to date me -- Arata -- instead, because he’s kind to her and loves her.” Sougo reaches over, flips the manuscript to a bookmarked section. “In this episode I have a pretty long scene. Arata realizes that the main character still loves Sawada and gives her up.”

“And it isn’t sitting right with you?”

Sougo nods. “I can’t quite seem to get it right, no matter what I do.”

“Well, of course not.” Yamato’s declaration surprises Sougo. He looks up and meets his eyes. “It’s all well and good as a story for the main characters; they get to wrap everything up and have their happy ending. But of course you’re unsatisfied. For you, for your character, it’s unsatisfying. You’re invested in him, not these two, so it’s hard to accept such a lukewarm ending.”

Sougo can feel that Yamato is right, but he doesn’t know what to do with it. He leans over, stares at his own highlighted lines. “I can’t change the script, so I don’t know how to change that.” He laughs gently, even though he doesn’t feel much like laughing. “It was sort of like that in my last drama - my character wasn’t a lead, so I didn’t get much resolution. I guess I’m destined for this kind of role from now on.”

Yamato turns the page, and Sougo’s eyes land on his last lines. ‘I want to make you happy,’ with the direction: Arata places his hands on her back, gives her a light push out the door. He’s letting her go.

“It feels like more of a waste in this case, though,” Sougo admits. “The writing was good, and I liked the characters. I really wanted people to come to side with Arata a bit, even though I knew from the start he wouldn’t win out in the end.”

“Then let’s do it.” Yamato doesn’t look up, but his voice is determined. “Let’s give him a more satisfying ending.” He takes out a pencil and starts underlining certain lines. “Obviously you can’t change the script, so let’s work on delivery instead. You want to think about what would be a good ending for your character, and deliver the lines in a way that tells that story.” Sougo begins to protest, but Yamato looks up, cuts him off. “Hey, you made me root for him, you know? Take responsibility.”

Sougo thinks about arguing, then apologizing. Instead he pulls his chair closer, bows his head a bit. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Yamato laughs, scribbling notes in the margins of the script. “So think about it. If you were writing Arata’s story, instead of Sawada and what’s-her-name, how would it end? What would be satisfying?”

Sougo thinks about it. “I mean, personally, I think this is the ending that makes the most sense. He wants her to be happy, so he gives her up.”

Yamato scoffs. “This isn’t a business transaction, Sou. They aren’t coworkers. There’s no reason to defer to his superiors or whatever.” He’s still furiously writing, a difficult-to-place smile on his face. No matter what he complains to to the contrary, Sougo thinks, he really does seem to love his work. As if he’s read Sougo’s mind, Yamato looks up, grins at him. “Personally, since this is a love story, I don’t want him to give up, no matter what.”

Sougo smiles back. “Yamato-san, you’re actually unexpectedly romantic, huh?”

“Don’t be stupid, that kind of thing never works out in real life.” Yamato keeps scribbling anyway. “But as a story, isn’t it more satisfying that way?” He drops the pencil, shoves the manuscript back to Sougo. “I’ve written a couple of notes to make it clear that Arata isn’t giving up on her, not really. Read these back to me, taking my direction notes into account this time. We’ll make a dark horse leading man of you yet. Take TRIGGER’s Tsunashi Ryuunosuke down a peg!”

The trip to Kyushu underlines for Sougo just how much trouble he’s really in. Ryuunosuke falls asleep on his shoulder on the plane, and Sougo feels like he spends the whole ride holding his breath, holding perfectly still while listening to the other man mutter incomprehensibly in a thick Okinawan dialect. When they arrive Ryuunosuke reaches up to the shelf above them and grabs one of the director’s bags, and when his arms almost flex out of his shirt sleeves Sougo briefly entertains the idea of fainting. He even trips on his way out of the plane; Ryuunosuke reaches out and catches him, his hand lingering on the small of his back for longer, Sougo thinks, than is strictly necessary. It’s almost a relief when they’re separated, swept off to hair and makeup.

Sougo is nervous going into it, but with some convincing the director seems to like the direction he and Yamato worked out for his lines. They’d decided that the most satisfying conclusion for Sougo’s character would be to keep the lines as if he was giving the main character up, but changing the delivery to be more ambiguous -- More like, come back to me when you’re ready to think seriously about me. I’ll wait, Yamato had said. It’s a difficult line to walk, especially since Sougo isn’t nearly the actor that Yamato is.

Finally he manages it exactly like he wanted to: he smiles like his heart is breaking and stares into the camera, laughs and pushes the heroine gently toward the door. He barely realizes they’ve finished shooting until he hears one of the staff laughing,

“Yukarin, what’re you crying for?!”

He looks up to see that the heroine has bitter tears rolling down her face, and he freezes, horrified.

“Sorry, Hanamaki-san, I didn’t -- your makeup --!”

“It’s fine,” the director laughs, wandering over. He puts his hand gently on the lead actress’ head. “We took the scene in a bit of a different direction, but it was good, I think. We can use Yukari-chan’s tears. Even if they were accidental.”

“But it’s just not fair!” His co-star is too much of a pro to rub at her eyes, but she directs her gaze upward, trying to force the tears welling up back down. “Even though he tried so hard. Even though he didn’t do anything wrong.” She sniffles, and Sougo can’t decide whether to feel guilty or triumphant. “I hope there’s a second season. I hope Arata-kun comes back. I hope he finds a new love. A better one! One who will love him back.”

The director’s expression is sharp, and he muses, “That actually doesn’t sound bad -- Osaka-kun, I know your schedule has been hectic over this last month, but if I can talk the higher-ups into a sequel, I hope you’ll consider working with us again.” Sougo’s mouth drops open, and all he can do is bow frantically, let Banri promise to talk to President Takanashi about it for him.

“Osaka-san, you were so cool!” Hanamaki-san’s voice is still incredulous. “I was really surprised -- it was so different from your usual delivery.” And then she turns, asks, “Don’t you agree, Ryuunosuke-san? It was really surprising.” Sougo freezes, looks behind the camera for the first time and sees Ryuunosuke leaning against the wall, expression complicated, and it’s like all the air leaves the room.

Even though it feels like he’s been punched in the stomach Sougo manages to choke out,

“Tsunashi-san! I didn’t realize -- how long --”

Ryuunosuke’s hair and makeup are done for filming, impeccably set. He smiles, that strange look from a moment ago gone so quickly Sougo feels like he must have imagined it. When he praises him, saying, “Yeah, Sougo-kun, you were really cool just then!” Sougo’s vision swims. He can only pray that no one notices how weird he’s being, or that they chalk it up to adrenaline and sadness about filming ending.

“If everything is finished with filming,” Banri puts a hand on Sougo’s shoulder, mercifully pulls him out of the studio lights and slightly away from his favorite TRIGGER member. “I’m going to go ahead and take Sougo-kun. We’ve got some things to go over for his return to Tokyo tomorrow, and I know Tsunashi-san and Hanamaki-san still have a lot of scenes to get through tonight.”

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine.” The director waves them away, moving on to his next task. “Osaka-kun, good work today - I look forward to working with you in the future!”

He and Banri have only taken a few steps toward the door when he hears Ryuunosuke say his name. They both turn - he’s closed the distance between them and is reaching out, like he’d thought to grab Sougo’s shoulder and only later realized that Banri’s hand was already there. He looks briefly uncomfortable, although maybe that’s just Sougo’s imagination.

“Ah, I just. Sougo-kun, are you going to use the baths later? I hear they have a really nice outdoor hot spring. I was hoping to check it out.”

The question seems like it comes out of nowhere. Sougo wonders if Ryuunosuke has realized how strangely Sougo has been acting recently, if he’s angry, or worried, or feels weird about it. He does his best to smile, answers,

“Banri-san and I were planning on going later.”

“Tsunashi-san, you still have a lot of filming left, right?” Banri’s voice is pleasant but firm, his hand heavy on Sougo’s shoulder. “Once you’re done you absolutely should join us!”

Ryuunosuke seems like he still has something to say, but at that moment the director calls his name. He turns, smiling his apologies at the two of them. Banri guides Sougo away, takes him to get out of his costume and makeup.

When they’re done they take a quick break; Sougo has just stepped onto his veranda and is leaning out, looking down at the scenery below when Banri knocks on the door. He pads over and joins Sougo, carrying two beers. When Sougo begins to protest he laughs kindly, says,

“It’s been a long couple of days, and you’ve worked hard. I’ll take responsibility. You’ve earned it.”

They drink quietly for a few minutes, occasionally chatting about their schedule for the next few days. Sougo can’t help wondering if Banri is killing time to make it easier for Ryuunosuke to join them. Eventually he asks, “Shouldn’t we go down?” Banri stretches in response, his face apologetic.

“Probably. It’s too bad about Tsunashi-san, but I suppose he is the lead. It can’t be helped.”

Sougo decides to blame his flushed cheeks on the beer, says,

“Sorry, Banri-san, I don’t think Tsunashi-san intended to make us wait --”

“Oh, I know. Neither of you did anything wrong, Sougo-kun, so it’s nothing to apologize for.” Banri’s smile is genuine and kind, and it makes Sougo feel embarrassed, like he’s been seen through. “I just feel bad - I know you aren’t supposed to interact too much with each other, but you like him, don’t you? I’d have liked to have made it so that you could spend a bit of time together.”

Sougo’s too flustered to respond beyond half-hearted thanks, and Banri ushers him down to the baths. Sougo only realizes how bone-tired he is when his muscles sink into the hot water, and he and Banri sit in comfortable silence for a while. Banri’s phone keeps going off, however, and after a short while he excuses himself, warning Sougo not to stay in for too long.

Sougo soaks for a while in his own thoughts - about the drama, about the director’s offer, about Ryuunosuke. He keeps telling himself he isn’t waiting for Ryuunosuke to join him, but he also can’t deny the vague knot of anticipation and anxiety which has settled deep into his stomach. Eventually he realizes he’s probably been in for longer than is strictly safe and climbs out of the water, feeling moody and vaguely defeated. He’s just finished pulling on his yukata when he hears the door slide open.

Ryuunosuke looks tired, but he seems to perk up a bit when they see each other -- or maybe, Sougo thinks dejectedly, he’s just imagining things. “Hey. It’s late,” Ryuunosuke says, as a sort of greeting. Suddenly Sougo sees how small even the largest hotel yukata is on Ryuunosuke, how short it is. He fights the urge to laugh, affection welling up in his throat. He really is too big.

“It’s nice out. Did you just finish?”

“Yeah,” Ryuunosuke admits sheepishly, “I hoped I’d catch you, but my lines are pretty embarrassing this time around, so I needed a lot of takes.”

“I always forget you’re like that,” Sougo allows himself to laugh, then, because it isn’t directed at Ryuunosuke himself. “Because you’re so convincing on television or in PVs.”

“‘Don’t say that,” Ryuunosuke laughs back, embarrassed. His shoulders are straining against the yukata fabric, and he looks vaguely uncomfortable. “Being told I’m convincing makes me feel kind of like a swindler or something.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Sougo keeps smiling, but his head is swimming: from the beer, from the heat, from the way Ryuunosuke’s yukata hangs mostly open. “It’s just surprising, you know? You always seem so manly and wild at concerts, so it was unexpected that you’re actually so kind.”

Ryuunosuke, embarrassed, admits, “Honestly, I don’t know if that’s really praise or not.” He shakes it off, asks Sougo, “Can I talk you into getting back in for a little bit?” He shrugs apologetically. “I know you just got out, but I feel like we haven’t really gotten to talk that much this trip. I even fell asleep on the plane.”

You fell asleep on me, Sougo thinks insistently, wrestling with his urge to acquiesce to requests, his desire to spend more time with Ryuunosuke, and the solid knowledge that doing so would end badly.

“I really should probably go back to my room,” he insists quietly, trying to ignore the cut of Ryuunosuke’s collarbone, the shiver of water dripping down the nape of his neck. He reaches for his room key. When he looks back up at Ryuunosuke that same unplaceable expression from before is back, and Sougo pulls his yukata closed further, mouth dry.

“That’s too bad.” Ryuunosuke’s voice is low and plaintive in a way Sougo hasn’t heard before, and he hates the way his heart automatically begins to race. “Sougo-kun, you’re easy to talk to. You’re interesting, and you’re a good listener.” He tilts his head, leans against the wall, carelessly ignoring how it causes the fabric of the yukata against his legs to ride up slightly. Sougo can feel his resolve weakening at the possibility of seeing even more than that. “Is it because of your family’s company?”

Sougo looks up as if slapped. Ryuunosuke looks surprised for a moment, then immediately apologetic, and waves his hands.

“Ah, sorry, it’s just - I remembered from that time on our show with Tamaki.” When Sougo had dropped his father’s name to get a message out to Aya. To lure her out, for all the good it’d done in the end. He remembers, but he’d hoped Ryuunosuke didn’t. “Is it something you don’t want to talk about? I just figured, since my mother married my stepfather, I’ve had to attend a lot of events. And when I see you talking to people, you listen to them and you put them at ease. So I was thinking, maybe it was because of that. You’ve had experience with it.”

“That’s probably it.” Sougo’s surprised by how flat his voice sounds; it’s been so long since he was asked about his family, he’d forgotten the feeling of dread it inspires. Even though he feels brief, automatic pleasure at being praised, he also can’t help feeling cornered too. It isn’t a fair reaction - there’s no reason Ryuunosuke should know how he feels, why he hates talking about his upbringing. “That’s right, since your family’s like mine, I suppose you’ve got experience with that as well.” He sighs, “Well. Your family is sort of like mine.”

He traces the outline of his room key with the tip of his pointer finger absent-mindedly, gathers his courage and continues,

“If I can be honest? It’s really selfish of me, but when I first heard you didn’t grow up the heir, I was actually pretty disappointed.” He laughs humorlessly, stares down at his own fingernails. “Even though I don’t necessarily think I’d wish my family on anyone, and I’m sure being raised in that kind of environment does something awful to you -- probably if you'd grown up like I did, you wouldn’t be so kind.”

Sougo’s skin is warm, probably from the heat of the bath. His hair is dripping into his face. He doesn’t know why he’s saying all this - just, the scene had gone well, and he had a beer and took a bath, and Ryuunosuke is looking at him like he’s listening.

“It’s stupid, but I just thought it would have been nice, you know? Someone else who’d understand. What it was like to grow up like that.”

He looks up and immediately regrets it. Ryuunosuke is looking at him with something like surprise or pity, which is a fairly common reaction when he talks about his family. “Sorry for saying something so weird and bringing down the mood like that -- the bath really is nice, you should definitely get in for a while.” He smiles, nods his farewell and takes a step for the door.

Ryuunosuke reaches out and grabs his wrist.

They both freeze. When Sougo looks up Ryuunosuke is unexpectedly red, like he’s not sure himself how he ended up in this position.

“Sorry,” Ryuunosuke says, not letting go of Sougo’s wrist. “Just -- don’t you want to keep me company? In the bath.” Sougo knows he’s staring openly because Ryuunosuke suddenly looks even more embarrassed, waves his free hand. “I know I’m being pushy, but. I don’t know - it’s so rare that we can talk one-on-one like this.” His hands are warm, so much so that Sougo registers the heat even on his still bath-hot skin. Because he’s had a hard day, because he can’t quite escape this situation, Sougo allows himself to imagine those hands cupping his jaw, gripping at his hipbones. “And, you know, I may not be the born-and-raised son of a hotel magnate, but. I’m a good listener? You could tell me about it? If you wanted.”

I’ve made things awkward, Sougo realizes, stomach sinking. Ryuunosuke feels badly. Even though it’s not his fault. Because he’s a kind person. And he thinks of me like a kid brother.

It would be easiest thing in the world to dispel that misperception, a small voice in the back of Sougo’s mind hisses. Just join him in the bath.

He pulls his arm away.

“Sorry. Thank you for checking in on me; you have early filming tomorrow, right? I’ll see you in the morning.”

He’s almost out the door when he hears Ryuunosuke call out to him.

“You’re wrong, Sougo-kun.”

Sougo stops. He doesn’t turn around, because he knows it would be a mistake. Ryuunosuke continues, voice gentle.

“You said something about how growing up like that -- that I wouldn’t be this kind now.” Sougo’s eyes are fixed on the door. He has to leave as quickly as possible, before he does something he’ll regret. “But, Sougo-kun: you’re one of the kindest people I’ve met in this industry.”

I’m not kind, Sougo thinks furiously, trying desperately to banish any thoughts of turning around, of pushing Ryuunosuke into the bath and climbing into his lap and disabusing him of that notion. Instead he mutters, “Good night, Tsunashi-san,” nods his head and pushes the door open, escaping into the cool air of the hallway.

It’s only through sheer willpower that Sougo manages to greet Ryuunosuke normally the next morning. TRIGGER’s tallest member, for his part, looks like he wants to talk about their conversation from the night before, but he seems to think better of it.

Sougo is grateful for that. At some point his switch seems to have been flipped, as what had been the quietly simmering ache of a pointless crush has quickly devolved into an anguished, hopeless longing that embarrasses him. Banri seems to read his desperate mood from the way he’s fidgeting and positions himself protectively next to Sougo on the airplane, a human barrier. If Ryuunosuke notices he doesn’t comment. Neither of them sleep for the entire flight back to Tokyo; based on their trip down Sougo had assumed he must be the kind of guy who’s out like a light on planes, but Ryuunosuke stays awake, leafing through what looks like new materials for upcoming talk shows.

Things only get stranger when they hit the press circuit for the drama. They have to keep a balance; Kaoru has stated explicitly that there are not to be any more overlapping interviews than strictly necessary, but they’re playing the two romantic leads, and they’re often asked about one another. Sougo is honest in interviews, but because of his studio mandate Ryuunosuke has to be more savvy. Mostly questions about their relationship are nixed before filming even begins, but occasionally on live television they’re surprised.

“Osaka-kun,” he’s asked once during an interview with the rest of the main cast, “I hear you’re a fan of TRIGGER’s from way back?” Sougo smiles; he’s been asked this a thousand times before. How much he likes music -- and TRIGGER -- is a favorite tidbit of the media’s.

“Yes, I mean, at least since they debuted. I managed to get tickets to their first live show in Tokyo, actually! It was a point of pride for me in college, before I entered Takanashi Productions. Everyone in IDOLiSH7 is a huge fan. Even though our images are pretty different, they’re a group we all look up to. Oh, I have all of their albums as well; I think I’ve lent them all to Mitsuki-san, though.” He hums for a minute, thoughtful, “I really should try to get them back, huh?”

The audience laughs, pleased. He knows Ryuunosuke isn’t really looking at him, because they’ve been coached not to make too much eye contact during interviews. Because he’s thinking about that, the follow-up question catches him off-guard.

“And who’s your favorite member? You seem like you’d be on team Tsunashi.”

Sougo feels his spine stiffening, freezing as if caught. After a second, he admits,

“I mean, I’ve been a huge fan of Tsunashi-san’s from the beginning…”

“I thought so! I mean, the other members are good too, but Tsunashi-san is so manly. It’s inevitable that you’d be his fan.”

Sougo feels like he can hear Ryuunosuke’s professional smile on the edge of his voice when he says, “Thank you so much for your support - it’s always nice to know that people like what we do.” Something about it feels lonely, though, and without thinking Sougo leans forward and looks over at Ryuunosuke, interjects,

“But you know.” He grips the edge of the table, trying to balance himself between professionalism and honesty. “Since I had the opportunity to work with Tsunashi-san on this project, I’ve come to realize I’m a huge fan of his, personally, as well.” Ryuunosuke looks up for a split second, expression surprised, and it’s enough to embarrass Sougo’s gaze back down toward the table. “The Tsunashi-san I know through my work as an idol is really handsome and manly, but even off the clock, I’ve gotten to see how hardworking and kind he is.” He smiles at the camera. “I’m a huge fan of TRIGGER, but even more, I really want to be the kind of person to measure up to him, I suppose.”

The audience is quiet for a brief moment, and Sougo worries that he’s said too much, but then Ryuunosuke laughs, says, “Oh, man, now I’m kind of embarrassed -- thank you, Sougo-kun, that’s really nice of you to say.” The audience seems to breathe a sigh of relief, laughs with him. The taping continues without further incident.

Sougo steels himself for a scolding after taping, but when Tsumugi comes to pick him up Yaotome Gaku is in tow, opening the door for her. Tamaki trails behind somewhat sullenly, stubbornly moving to grab the door. Gaku shoots him a look that clearly states it wasn’t for Tamaki that he’d held the door open.

“Sougo-san, good work today.” Tsumugi doesn’t say anything about his comments, but Gaku’s presence makes Sougo worried that perhaps Ryuunosuke is getting chewed out by Kaoru -- or worse, Kujo Tenn -- in his own prep room.

His worries must reflect on his face, because Gaku nods a greeting to him, says, “I’m just here to pick Ryuu up. We’ve got another interview in this building in an hour. He’s just slow getting ready, and I ran into Tsumugi in the hallway.”

“Oh,” Sougo says, dumbly, because the only other response he can think of is how mad it would make Yamato to hear Yaotome Gaku call their manager by her first name.

“What, were you worried?” Gaku scoffs, but there’s no meanness to it. Tamaki seems to start forward a little bit, then twitches backward when Sougo shoots him a look. “Even our president understands that little performance wasn’t Ryuu’s fault. Of course you’re his fan. How could you not be?”

Tsumugi bows her head frantically, full of apologies for Sougo’s carelessness. Sougo follows suit automatically, but stops when Gaku settles his hand on Tsumugi’s shoulder, pulls her back up. His face is full of affection, and Sougo’s surprised by his own visceral reaction, somewhere between jealousy and protectiveness. Briefly, crazily, he considers letting Tamaki at him. Gaku’s attention returns to Sougo, and for a few minutes he considers him wordlessly. Sougo worries to himself that maybe his thoughts had been showing on his face. Finally, Japan’s “number one man I want to be held by” cracks a smile, says,

“This is just a rumor, but I hear you’ve become pretty good friends with some TRIGGER impersonators from Kansai. So it wouldn’t be that surprising if you were seen around with some guy who looked a lot like Ryuu.” He raises his eyebrows. “Care to confirm or deny? Mind if I spread it around to the tabloids?”

Sougo’s mouth is dry. He smiles anyway, jokes, “I don’t really like to talk about my personal life.”

“That’s fair.” As if on cue Ryuunosuke appears in the doorway, but Gaku closes the distance between them in a few long strides, claps his hand on his shoulder and wheels him back into the hallway. “Ohh, no you don’t. You know the rules.” Blissfully ignoring his own hypocrisy he turns back to their manager, says, “See you, Tsumugi.” Ryuunosuke waves weakly, and Sougo returns the greeting. As the two TRIGGER members walk down the hallway Sougo can hear Gaku’s voice, volume slightly elevated, starting to tell Ryuunosuke what he’s heard about IDOLiSH7’s friendship with a group of TRIGGER impersonators.

“The thing about Gakkun,” Tamaki says, and Sougo decides that since only he and their manager are in earshot he doesn’t need to mention that Tamaki really should call him ‘Yaotome-san’, “is you can never tell if he’s actually a decent guy or if he just wants you to think he is.”

Sougo smiles.

“Maybe both.”

He can’t be all bad, he supposes. After all, he calls Ryuunosuke “Ryuu.”

Until he’d moved into the Takanashi Productions dorms, Sougo had only ever watched television rarely, and always by himself. He’d watched late night dramas, sitting quietly on a couch that felt too big for him; sometimes he’d put concerts on the big screen and listen to the way they echoed off of the walls of his apartment, too loud for him alone.

In the Takanashi Production dorms it’s a totally different experience. The residents regularly watch television together; rather than a lonely affair, it’s a battle to hear what anyone on the television is saying. They watch dramas, and documentaries, and more anime than any adult men should watch in their lifetimes. They watch their own live DVDs, and TRIGGER’s DVDs, and all of Re:Vale’s. On members’ birthdays they watch home movies Tsumugi has meticulously filmed for them. When Yamato started appearing in dramas they watched them together, and the same was true for MEZZO”’s drama debut as well. When Sougo’s drama begins, he begs for everyone not to make a fuss, but each week he finds himself crammed in on an over-crowded couch between Tamaki and Yamato, Nagi and Mitsuki splayed out messily at his feet.

The final episode of his drama airs on a weeknight, which means IDOLiSH7 can’t watch it together; they make plans to record it and watch it over the weekend. Sougo has to go to a cast party when it airs, anyway. The cast and crew sit quietly together and watch the episode, and Sougo can’t help anticipating where Riku will start crying, where Nagi will start yelping praise, the proud smirk that’s going to appear on Yamato’s face when he sees the final result of their reimagining of Sougo’s last scene. When the lights go up Sougo allows himself to sneak a look over at Ryuunosuke, and he’s surprised to see that TRIGGER’s tallest member is looking back at him.

They lose track of each other over the course of the party. It’s to be expected; they’re not supposed to spend too much time together, and as the lead Ryuunosuke has to stick with the leading lady as much as possible. Sougo is surprised by how many people come up to him to praise his performance, and his eyes swim at the number of business cards Banri exchanges with the people who talk with him. As the son of the Osaka house he’s used to this kind of event, but he’s unused to interest being directed at him and his work, at something he created himself. He finds it gratifying and overwhelming and exhausting all at once; it’s always been easier to push praise aside when it’s directed at his father’s empire and accomplishments, rather than something Sougo did on his own.

When the party is beginning to wind down he hears Momo’s voice calling out to him, kind and warm; it’s like being tossed a coat in a snowstorm. The members of Re:Vale make their way over to him and Banri. Momo can barely contain his excitement, and Yuki throws his arm over Banri’s shoulder, smiling a bit too broadly. Sougo bows low, probably too low.

“Momo-san, Yuki-san, I didn’t know you were here --”

“Ahhh, you know, Yuki’s worked with so many people in television and film, we get invited to this kind of thing all the time,” Momo laughs like he’s bragging, and then leans in conspiratorially. “And like, we figured -- it’s pretty late at night, there’s alcohol being served, Ban-san was probably gonna be here too.” He rolls his shoulders back, and Sougo shoots a look over to Yuki and Banri. As expected, there was something in it for Yuki after all. “We’ve been schmoozing all night, you know? I’m already tired. I wanna take a load off!! So Yuki and I were talking, and we decided: what if we checked with Sougo and Ban-san, see if they’ve got any exciting plans after this!” When Sougo opens his mouth to protest Momo cuts him off, laughing again. He laughs a lot, Sougo thinks enviously, but somehow on Momo-san it seems natural. “Hey, I know it’s weird to invite ourselves, but wouldn’t it be more fun to talk in a smaller group? I wanted to catch up with my cute kouhai! The man of the hour, really -- how come you didn’t tell me you could act?! I wasn’t prepared to cry like that!”

Banri shrugs Yuki’s arm off. “We were planning on meeting with Yamato-kun and Mitsuki-kun in the bar across from the Takanashi Productions dormitory after this; it’s Sougo-kun’s first drama on his own, and we thought we adults might as well show him a good time.”

“Yamato-kun, huh?” Yuki is undeterred, and he hooks his arm with Momo’s, catlike, eyelids hooded. He looks around the room at the thinning crowd. “Things are quieting down if we wanted to go now.”

“I should go say thanks again. To the director, and everyone else on the staff,” Sougo says. Banri nods. Momo tilts his head, asks,

“We’re gonna go say goodbye to Ryuu -- Sougo, d’you wanna come with?”

Sougo allows himself a glance across the room at where Ryuunosuke is standing. He’s easy to spot; he’s taller than anyone else around him, and he’s honestly impossibly handsome, tonight even more than usual. Re:Vale calls him Ryuu, too, Sougo thinks, and suddenly feels strangely lonely. He looks away quickly, feeling like he’s doing something wrong, and shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay. Please go ahead; we can meet you downstairs and take a taxi together, if you would like.”

“Yeah, okay, okay! See you in a bit!” Momo’s already turned away, his eyes locked on his next target. He’s good at playing the room, Sougo thinks, a bit envious again. A people-pleaser.

“You better show up, Ban.” Yuki says it like a joke, but the look he shoots Sougo’s way isn’t humorous at all. “Sougo-kun, I’m leaving it to you to make sure he shows up.”

As it turns out, Yuki’s warning isn’t entirely useless; Banri seems to think changing the venue for their afterparty might be a good idea, and when Mitsuki shows up he’s apologetic, citing an emergency on Yamato’s part. Sougo suspects that the emergency may very well have been walking into the bar and seeing Yuki, but he can’t tell for sure, and soon someone has shoved a beer into his hand. He has good intentions not to drink, but when Momo tells him to, laughing, he knows he’s done for. He can’t say no to a senpai, even though the senpai in question is aware of the risks and really should know better. Yuki smiles like he’s anticipating something, but even with that clear signal of sabotage Sougo can’t quite bring himself to disobey.

He keeps trying to pass his phone off to Banri, sensing the danger the second he starts drinking. Instead, Momo keeps using Sougo’s phone to take selfies together, shoving it back at him when he’s done. Mitsuki keeps laughing, already sloppy, telling him he should text Yamato and give him a piece of his mind.

“You should’ve seen him watching your drama,” he grins, “The last time I saw him that happy was when he saw our outfits for Marchen Dream. So what’s with punking out on us? What kind of leader does that? You should definitely message him.”

After a couple of beers it starts to sound like a good idea, and Sougo unlocks his phone. There’s an unread rabichat from Ryuunosuke; just: “Good work today!”

Sougo blinks, unsteady. He tries to evaluate how he feels about being texted, whether or not that’s technically against the rules. He knows, instinctively, that responding to the message is a bad idea: that he has no self-control when he’s been drinking. That he gets too demanding. That there’s a lot he shouldn’t say to Ryuunosuke in particular.

He sends a series of texts in quick succession.

Tsunashi-san
Tsunashi-san good work today
Are you done?
If you can be bothered and would be willing to imbibe, we are spending the evening with Re:Vale in the bar across from our dormitory
I’d like to extend an invitation
Sorry for the selfish request.

He can see that he’s making mistakes with his formal speech, and he doesn’t care. When he doesn’t get a reply, he starts feeling desperate, the alcohol hazing away his normal ability to explain to himself: Tsunashi-san is busy, and it’s late, and Sougo isn’t any fun to drink with, and the last time Sougo drank he forced him to be his lap pillow. Frustrated, he continues.

Where are you?
Come here
I want to see you
Are you coming?
Please
I want to see you.

And then, suddenly, he realizes the obvious.

You’re not coming.
This is inappropriate.
I’m sorry.
Please come.
Don’t come.

Sougo’s head is swimming; he mutters to Banri that he’s going to the bathroom, stumbling out of his seat. He spends probably around ten minutes sitting in the stall, cooling his head. When he returns to the table Momo is half-asleep, face pressed into the cool wood of the bar. Yuki is sitting quietly with his arm pressed against Banri’s in the way Sougo sees girls hold their purses when they’re sleeping on the train; any movement on Banri’s part will alert Yuki to his impending escape. Mitsuki also looks tired, and they talk quietly for a while, alcohol forgotten as exhaustion begins to set in. Banri orders them more waters than Sougo can count, and by the time he’s ready to go he’s significantly more sober than he’d been. A flashing light on his phone indicates that he has unread messages, but he keeps the screen turned off. That’s a problem for tomorrow.

Back at the dormitory Banri calls a cab for himself and Re:Vale. Mitsuki immediately falls asleep on the couch, and Sougo is thinking about doing the same thing when he hears his phone ring insistently. He answers, and the voice on the other end is too familiar.

“Sougo-kun?” Ryuunosuke’s voice is concerned. “Sougo-kun, are you alright? Where are you?”

“Tsunashi-san!” Sougo suddenly regrets how sober he is, because even his slight buzz isn’t enough to keep the wave of shame and regret from washing over him. “No, I’m. I’m fine! I’m returned to the dorms now, I apologize profusely if you were concerned about --”

“I’m outside.” His voice is muffled. “Please come down and let me see your face, I’ve checked every bar in this neighborhood, I’ve been recognized by at least five aunties, and I’ve spent the last hour imagining you collapsed in a ditch somewhere.”

Every nerve in Sougo’s body is on fire; he wants nothing more than to ignore the phone call, but instead he reaches for his shoes, whispers, “I’m coming down - where are you parked?”

Ryuunosuke is in a parking lot across the street from the office. When Sougo reaches the car he climbs into the passenger seat, pulls down the hood of his jacket and his facemask and is about to begin the litany of apologies he owes when he’s grabbed, pulled into Ryuunosuke’s chest with a force that surprises him. Sougo's arms are limp at his sides, hands clenching and unclenching as he realizes he doesn’t know what to do with them. It takes him a second to realize that he’s being hugged, that the pounding he’s hearing is Ryuunosuke’s heart battering against his ribcage.

“How many bars are there in this neighborhood, anyway?” Ryuunosuke’s voice is frustrated, a timbre Sougo hasn’t heard before.

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Sougo responds carefully, voice muffled in Ryuunosuke’s chest. “Honestly, we only go to the one.”

“Sorry.” Ryuunosuke’s voice is apologetic; so is the smile that he cracks. “Sorry, I was just worried.” He shakes his head, hands still clasping at Sougo’s arms. “Or, that’s not right -- I was worried, but I was happy.”

“Happy?” Sougo wonders if it’s Ryuunosuke’s hands that are shaking, or if it’s Sougo.

Ryuunosuke nods. “I told you before, didn’t I? I like it when you make demands of me. It makes me feel needed.”

“Oh,” Sougo replies, stupidly, unsure how else to respond.

It seems like ages pass. Eventually Ryuunosuke releases him, and Sougo looks up, face crimson. Ryuunosuke is a similar shade of red, the color blooming across his cheeks. He’s still wearing the formal clothes from the release party , hair carefully styled. His suit exposes the crook of his collarbone in a way Sougo knows is purposeful.

It’s erotic, Sougo thinks, mouth dry.

“I hope you didn’t come from the party,” he begins, and he’s surprised when Ryuunosuke starts laughing.

“The party. Right. I’d basically already forgotten.”

Sougo smiles back, gently. “It’s hard for me to forget; after all, you’re still in your suit.” Ryuunosuke looks down at himself as if realizing for the first time all night what he’s wearing. When he looks back up his expression is embarrassed. Sougo laughs, feeling strangely giddy. “You look very nice, by the way. Well, you always do. But this is the first event I’ve seen you at in person, I suppose.”

Ryuunosuke turns even redder, if that’s possible. “You look nice too. Looked. I mean, you still look nice.” He runs a hand through his hair; Sougo wonders how he manages to make embarrassed and awkward look so good. He knows it can’t be intentional, but it feels purposeful anyway. He looks up at Ryuunosuke, who looks like he has something else to say. They haven’t been this close to one another since their trip to Kyushu, and Sougo can feel the heat lingering on his cheeks, his pulse rattling irregularly in his wrists.

Somehow he can’t help thinking about Tamaki lecturing when he thought Sougo wasn’t in earshot: He spends so much time thinking about what other people want, he doesn’t think about what he wants at all.

Ryuunosuke suddenly laughs, almost as if in response to the memory; when Sougo tilts his head questioningly he waves his hand in response, says, “No, it’s just -- I’m glad I got to see you, you know? It’s silly, but I’m glad you messaged me.”

Maybe Tamaki is right. Maybe Sougo doesn’t spend enough time thinking about what he wants.

“I’m sorry for bothering you on such an important night,” Sougo murmurs, staring at the way Ryuunosuke’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and not really feeling all that apologetic. “For taking you from the party, and for making you come all the way out here.”

Ryuunosuke shakes his head, rolls his shoulders back, thoughtful. “No, the truth is, I’d wanted to talk to you. About the final episode. About your last scene.” It’s cold inside the car, and Sougo watches the warm air huffing out with Ryuunosuke’s breath. He’s staring straight ahead, out beyond the parked cars, almost as if at nothing.

Remembering, Sougo thinks suddenly, hopefully. Remembering me.

“You really stole the show.” Ryuunosuke’s grin is sheepish. He reaches out, musses Sougo’s hair. His hand is big and warm. Sougo knows it should make him happy, but it doesn’t, not really. Sougo hasn’t been praised by family in a long time, not with any warmth, but he wonders miserably if this is how Ryuunosuke would praise him if he were one of his younger brothers, and his stomach flips suddenly, rebellious.

Sougo wants to cup his jaw, turn his face to look at him. To trace his thumb along his bottom lip, put his fingers into Ryuunosuke’s mouth. To climb into his lap and throw his arms over his shoulders, to teach him that Sougo is nothing like his younger brothers. To lock the car doors, to ruin his own career. To make it impossible for Ryuunosuke to look at anything but him.

“I couldn’t help it,” Ryuunosuke continues, and something about the hitch in his voice catches Sougo’s attention. “I knew it when I watched the filming, but -- Sougo-kun, you’re really cool.” There’s a heat behind Ryuunosuke’s eyes. It’s almost unbearably attractive, so Sougo assumes it must be mostly unintentional. “Not just in the drama. On set as well.” Ryuunosuke smiles, gaze still far away, and Sougo’s pulse drums loudly in his ears. “People talk about your feminine points, and I guess there’s that too, because you’re polite, and you take care of others, but every now and then you’re, like. Unexpectedly manly, I guess? Even though you’re younger than me, so it’s kind of embarrassing to admit.” He laughs quietly, and Sougo can’t bring himself to be angry at the comment, even as he catches himself thinking, well, I am a man, after all. “I can’t rest on my laurels. I’ve got to work harder as well.”

After his quiet soliloquy Ryuunosuke falls mostly silent. He brings his hand down from Sougo’s head, lets it rest in the space between them. He doesn’t seem to be waiting for a response. Because he isn’t expecting to get anything out of it, Sougo realizes, chest aching. Because he just wanted to tell me.

Sougo’s heart is in his throat. He knows he needs to get out of the car, to get away from this situation. He’s an idol, and so is Ryuunosuke. He’s been drinking. It’s late. He’s been awake for hours.

Still: he wants. He’s never wanted anything as much he wants Ryuunosuke to look at him in this moment.

He can’t help it. It’s all too much. Even though he knows he’s never made a decision after drinking that he didn’t regret in the morning, he reaches out and snares Ryuunosuke by the back of the neck, pulls him over and down to crush their lips together.

Ryuunosuke makes a surprised noise into his mouth. Sougo knows that by all rights he should let him go and also begin apologizing immediately, but for better or worse he’s committed himself to this particular course of action. Instead he brings his other hand up, slides his fingers along Ryuunosuke’s jawline and threads them into his hair.

When Ryuunosuke’s mouth opens just a bit against his Sougo’s head swims, although he couldn’t tell you whether it’s because of relief and excitement at being kissed back or if it has more to do with anxiety-induced hyperventilation. Figuring that there’s no point in pulling back now, Sougo slips his tongue into Ryuunosuke’s mouth, pleased at the small noise it elicits in response. He considers his options, strangely calm; he decides against his initial lap straddling plan due to space constraints, and instead brings his hand down to clutch desperately at Ryuunosuke’s thigh.

Ryuunosuke kisses like he’s inexperienced, which surprises Sougo. Even if Ryuunosuke had basically said as much, Sougo can’t imagine that someone who looked like him would be able to avoid experience. Still, when he thinks about these large, warm hands combing through someone else’s hair, pressing into someone else’s back, he can’t help a quiet flare of something sort of like anger, so maybe it’s for the best. Ryuunosuke’s breath is loud in Sougo’s ears, although honestly it’s anyone’s guess how loud anything actually is; Sougo feels like his heart sounds like it’s hooked up to an amplifier. It’s genuinely embarrassing. He kisses with enthusiasm, to make up for it.

After a few minutes he catches sight of the time -- it’s almost three in the morning. He doesn’t need to be up for a while, but he can’t imagine Ryuunosuke’s managers are nearly as accommodating as Tsumugi and Banri. When he pulls away Ryuunosuke moves down, chasing his lips. It makes his heart race, but he places a hand on Ryuunosuke’s chest anyway, to deter him from following. Ryuunosuke’s eyes are heavy and his gaze is warm. Sougo is embarrassed to be looked at so intently, and he moves up to mouth at Ryuunosuke’s throat, avoiding the languid question behind the other man’s eyes. He suddenly feels a cold rush of fear, like if he gives Ryuunosuke a moment’s break he’ll think better of this, better of Sougo. He nuzzles in where jaw meets collarbone and reaches over to fumble with Ryuunosuke’s belt, determined to prove that this isn’t a bad idea.

“Whoa!”

Unfortunately Sougo’s plan seems to backfire; Ryuunosuke pulls back so quickly he slams the back of his head against the glass of the car window. Thankfully nothing breaks, but it looks like it hurts. He hisses, shaking his head like he’s just had a bucket of cold water dumped on him and is just now coming back to his senses. Sougo freezes immediately, allowing himself one brief moment of disappointment before he settles somewhere between mortification and acceptance. He pulls his hands away, holding them up where Ryuunosuke can see them.

“Sorry!”

His face is bright red. He stares down at his own lap, humiliated. Sougo’s made any number of romantic mistakes in his life, has always veered wildly between too restrained and too needy. It certainly isn’t the first time he’s mistaken kindness for another kind of interest, but it certainly is the worst he’s ever felt about it. It’s made even worse knowing what he does about Ryuunosuke; how kind he is, and how hard it probably is for him to disappoint Sougo, and how obvious it is in retrospect that this wasn’t going to happen. It’s going to be awkward from now on, because Ryuunosuke is a kind person and won’t know what to do, and it’ll affect their work together, and TRIGGER’s work with IDOLiSH7. Sougo knew from the beginning how this would play out, and that just makes everything more terrible.

He brings a hand up to rub at his eyes, hating the way his voice had broken, how in the heat of the moment he’d forgotten to be polite. He can remember his father chiding him, telling him that as a man if he means an apology his voice shouldn’t tremble, and he swallows and tries again.

“Tsunashi-san, I apologize. I shouldn’t have been so forward. There was no reason for me to behave in this manner. There’s absolutely nothing to excuse my behavior, and I promise I won’t impose myself on you any further, but,” it can’t be helped; his hands are shaking. He just has to hope that Ryuunosuke doesn’t notice.

He hates himself, suddenly and intensely. He thinks about Banri collecting business cards at the viewing party, about Yamato helping him to run lines, about how much Mitsuki likes TRIGGER, about how Tamaki smiles in front of Ryuunosuke in a way that fits his age, and he wonders why he’d been willing to risk all of that for a few minutes of selfishness. He wonders what it was about all of this that had made him think this could work out, why he’d thought this would end any differently. After all, there’s no reason he can come up with that Tsunashi Ryuunosuke would want to kiss him in his car in a parking garage at three in the morning, or really at all, ever. He knows he has to do something to fix this. He has to take responsibility.

“If, somehow,” he chokes out, gathering all of the courage he can muster, “you could overlook my unforgivable actions from tonight and continue to treat my colleagues in IDOLiSH7 in the same way as you had been…”

As if to stop him, Ryuunosuke reaches out, clasps Sougo’s face with both hands. It’s awkward and weird, but Sougo does find that his apologies die out at the warmth of Ryuunosuke’s palms on his cheeks. Sougo wishes there was some way to escape this situation; the last thing that he wants in this moment is to make eye contact, and the regretful expression Ryuunosuke is making makes it a hundred times worse.

“What are you talking about? I’m not going to punish you or anything like that. You didn't even do anything wrong.” Sougo did approximately a thousand things wrong; if he wanted, he could probably write up an itemized list. “I’m the one who’s in the wrong here. I mean, Tenn even warned me, and I still --”

“Tenn? Kujo Tenn?!” Sougo can feel himself collapsing deeper into the cushions of Ryuunosuke’s car seat. He’d known he was being a little obvious, but he hasn’t even seen Kujo Tenn in person since the night of IDOLiSH7’s anniversary party, so the idea that he could tell how badly Sougo had it for Ryuunosuke just from a series of television interviews horrifies him.

“Yeah, he really let me have it a couple of weeks ago,” Ryuunosuke laughs, but there isn’t much humor in his voice. “Sougo-kun, you’re a people-pleaser, right? You have a hard time not giving in to what other people want.” Ryuunosuke sighs heavily. “And you’re a fan as well, which just makes it worse.” He’s let go of Sougo’s face. The places where his hands had been still tingle a little bit. It isn’t unpleasant, but Sougo does find it very distracting. “Tenn warned me, you know. He said, 'Ryuu, you’ve got to stop looking over at Osaka Sougo like you’re dying to be dip-kissed, or --'”

“Sorry, what?” Sougo interrupts Ryuunosuke almost before he even registers what is being said. Ryuunosuke, for his part, flinches immediately. Sougo blinks stupidly for a few seconds, sinking into the silence between them. Finally, he mumbles, “Sorry, this is embarrassing, I think I must have fallen asleep for a few seconds there, could you repeat --”

“I like you,” Ryuunosuke blurts out, voice embarrassed. “A lot. I have for a while.” His face is scarlet; Sougo imagines that he can feel the warmth emanating off of him. “So I was really happy when you, you know.” He coughs, “Kissed me.”

How is it even possible, Sougo wonders, for someone with this much raw sexual charisma to get so embarrassed at his own confession that he stumbles over the word ‘kiss’?

“Anyway, I know that I was pretty much begging for it, but. I'm actually pretty serious? About you, I mean. So like, I’m really happy, but -- Sougo-kun, that kind of stuff - you really should do it with someone you really like, you know?”

Ryuunosuke brings his hand up and scrubs at his face. Sougo recognizes the gesture from his own repertoire; he usually does it when he’s embarrassed or sad and he doesn’t want other people looking at him. He reaches up and catches Ryuunosuke’s hand, pulls it down. Ryuunosuke towers over him, but he still manages somehow to look up at Sougo through his lashes, expression torn. Kujo Tenn was right; there’s something in Ryuunosuke’s expression that practically begs to be kissed. Sougo wonders if he’s having some kind of massive stroke, or if it’s possible for someone this kind and this handsome to be this colossally stupid.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, and Ryuunosuke flinches again at his apology. Sougo has literally never seen him do that before tonight, so for it to happen twice in the span of five minutes is disconcerting. Because he’s serious, Sougo realizes suddenly. “I have to clarify. You think I kissed you out of pity?” His voice is still trembling. He wonders if it’ll ever get easier to say embarrassing stuff like this. “Pardon my rudeness, but have you been in a room with yourself?”

“That’s not me, though,” Ryuunosuke mumbles. “That’s, you know. TRIGGER or whatever. Sougo-kun, I know you’re a fan, so --”

“I really like you, Tsunashi-san.” Sougo interrupts, frustrated. He gulps a mouthful of air, feeling very much like he might hyperventilate when Ryuunosuke goes completely still. “I have for ages. I thought it was obvious. I mean, I basically forced you to be a lap pillow for me.” He readjusts his grip on Ryuunosuke’s hand, takes it in his own. “I said it before, didn’t I? Sure, I’ve been your fan for a while, but that’s separate from what I mean. Your kindness, and how professional you are, and how much you care about your friends -- that’s what I like.”

“Oh.” Ryuunosuke’s quiet response isn’t exactly what Sougo had envisioned in the brief, crazy moments he’d allowed himself to imagine how this conversation might go. He'd only been able to conjure up two scenarios: one realistic, in which Ryuunosuke let him down easily, and one pornographic, in which he’d been thrown into the back seat and fucked into the leather. Still, when Ryuunosuke laughs shyly, says, “To be honest, this conversation is going better than I’d thought it would, so I’m not really sure where to go from here,” Sougo is a bit gratified to know they’re feeling the same way. It’s amplified when Ryuunosuke flexes his fingers around Sougo’s, gives his hand a squeeze.

“Well, for right now, it’s pretty late,” Sougo admits, although his first instinct is to run with his sudden rush of good luck and revive his lap-straddling plan. “So maybe we should shelve this conversation. Um, for the time being, anyway!” He hates making the suggestion, as he can’t quite shake the feeling that when he wakes up in the morning this will all have been a (disappointingly PG-rated) dream. “Do you have work in the morning? We could talk about this over coffee, if you’d like. You know, once we’ve both gotten some sleep.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Ryuunosuke sighs, and even though he’s still as handsome as ever, for the first time it’s apparent to Sougo how bone-tired he is. He clasps Sougo’s hand a bit more firmly, asks quietly, “I mean, though, just to confirm -- you’re not mad? Do you want to, you know?” He swallows, flush spreading down his neck. “Go on a date? Or, like, a series of dates? Do you want to date? Me, I mean.”

Sougo hasn’t been on a date since college, and honestly he didn’t do much dating then, either. He’d always assumed that at some point he’d be married off to some wealthy heiress, and as a result he’d always kept any relationships as secret as possible. It had never really occurred to him to rebel from his parents in any significant way until he’d pursued a career as an idol, and that had come with its own ban on dating. Still, he smiles and nods, stomach flipping.

“That sounds nice. A date, I mean. Or, you know. Whatever.” He suddenly looks up, concerned. “Nowhere with alcohol, though, right? You know how I get.”

Ryuunosuke laughs, leans over and hooks Sougo carelessly by the back of his neck. Sougo thinks he’s going to kiss him, but he just pushes their foreheads together, mutters, “Yeah, we wouldn’t want you to get like that again, huh.”

Sougo doesn’t have a reply, but Ryuunosuke keeps smiling like an idiot, and he occasionally snorts a laugh, like he’s remembering. Sougo tilts his head up and kisses him to shut him up.

After all, lately he’s been working on developing a sense of humor about himself, but no one is perfect.