For the millionth time, or what feels like it, at least, Inoo and Hikaru tumble into the dressing room full of giggles and glee, fingers tangled together as the door falls shut behind them. Somehow, after rehearsing their duet for the upcoming concert tour enough times, it starts to feel impossible to keep away from one another, their hands and their eyes and their bodies— Inoo isn’t sure if it’s the fact that this is a song they wrote together, just for the two of them, or if it’s because being goofy and weird together has always been their forte and the thing that feels the most comfortable between them, or if it’s because the theme of the song still reminds Inoo of the time a little over a month ago when Hikaru had turned their radio show corner into a proposal, which had felt like a dream, and sometimes Inoo still worries that it is, except that he has the ring on his left ring finger to prove it— but whatever the reason, by the fourth or fifth run-through in a row, he and Hikaru inevitably are deviating from the choreography in order to get closer to one another. Luckily, by now, the rehearsal director has come to accept that he can’t change them and recognize the signs, so by the time things are getting unbearable, he dismisses them for a fifteen minute break with a loaded warning that they should be ready to work when they get back.
And so they tumble into the dressing room at the rehearsal hall and close the door to the rehearsal director’s long-suffering sighs, already pressing close to one another in the relative privacy of the space. After almost ten years of being groupmates and another three or four years of working together before that as juniors, Inoo doesn’t know why suddenly they can’t hold themselves together when they’re rehearsing just the two of them, but honestly, the bubbly, giddy feeling of joy feels too nice for him to really put any effort into clamping it down, and from the way Hikaru meets his gaze with a warm, loving look in his eyes, Inoo thinks he must feel the same way. Perhaps it’s that they’re getting old and can deal with big, scary words like love and commitment now, or perhaps it’s because, as the group approaches their nine-year anniversary, one year away from the big one-oh, love and commitment are at the forefront of everyone in the group’s mind, but right now, Inoo doesn’t particularly care. He’s much less inclined to sitting around thinking through the logistics of what’s making him happy than to bask in the glorious warmth of Hikaru’s body pressing his up against the dressing room wall, Hikaru’s lips seeking Inoo’s out in a gentle but insistent kiss.
Inoo yields; there are times when he’d poke fun at Hikaru for his eagerness or jokingly accuse him of being a pervert, but right now, all he can feel is love, love for this person who fits with him so perfectly, both physically here now up against the wall like puzzle pieces and in their interests and personalities as well. He can’t imagine finding someone else with whom he could write and perform a song about seducing household objects, or talk for hours about their odd and off-the-well creative ideas and projects, or jam out on their respective musical instruments without worrying about how their skills and styles will match up, or play out any number of bizarre sexual fantasies with the utmost trust and without fear of judgement. Inoo isn’t usually one to believe in fate, but he has to admit that it was either that or the happiest of accidents that he and Hikaru happened to meet, to become groupmates, to fall in love, because despite his scoffing at the idea of soulmates or anything that sounds like it belongs in a romance movie or greeting card, he really doesn’t think there’s anyone in the whole world who he could possibly love quite the way he loves Hikaru.
Hikaru runs a hand through Inoo’s hair and down the side of Inoo’s face, brushing the backs of his fingers gently against his cheek, his neck before settling against his shoulder, long fingers playing with the curled ends of Inoo’s hair at the nape of his neck, and Inoo doesn’t want this to end, even if it is only to go back to a rehearsal of just the two of them. But soon enough, Hikaru pulls back a little, still smiling as he meets Inoo’s eyes once again. They look at one another for a long moment; Inoo wants to say something, anything, really, but all he can think of is, “I love you,” which seems somewhat redundant after kissing as they just have. Perhaps Hikaru is in the same predicament, because it takes a long moment for his smile to quirk up a bit at the edge in a more playful expression and for him to break the silence with, “So how about I seduce you now?”
It’s a typical Hikaru expression of love, but while Inoo might have rolled his eyes when they were younger, now, it’s just endearing, and he can’t help but smile warmly. “Sorry,” he answers, reaching out to brush a stray strand of long pink hair behind Hikaru’s ear, “You already won me over a long time ago.”
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