“Unless what?” Watanabe bristled, already standing up.
‘Unless you want to faint on the stage.’ Miyadate bit down on his lip. There was no point in upsetting Watanabe further. He breathed out quietly, changing his stance. “Would you like to sleep? We still have some time.”
Watanabe’s features softened, knowing that Miyadate had given in. And he knew he was being unreasonable, Miyadate had after all, been looking out for him as usual. But he was exhausted, he had no appetite, and he had lashed out unnecessarily at Miyadate. “Lie with me?” Watanabe gave a small apologetic smile.
“Okay.” Miyadate covered the uneaten bento with the plastic lid and walked the short distance to their mattress spread in the middle of dressing room. He flicked on the aroma diffuser and the scent of vanilla started to fill the room.
Watanabe was already underneath the blanket, and he folded himself against Miyadate’s side as the latter lowered himself onto the mattress. Miyadate shifted so that Watanabe could lie properly on top of him.
“Go to sleep, Shota.” Miyadate murmured, his voice gentle and calming. He brushed his fingers lightly against the plaster on Watanabe’s back, his touch soothing. Watanabe’s breathing evened out and Miyadate closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by his lover’s warmth.
"Shota, you need to eat more rice." Miyadate’s voice carried across the room. He was not loud but his words had sent a warning bell across to the other members and the room turned quiet.
“Are we talking about this again?” Watanabe’s tone was clipped.
Fukazawa turned away, snatching up a magazine on the table, ignoring the scene unfolding behind him. Across the room, Iwamoto took up another magazine as well and began to bury himself into it.
“You weren’t listening the last time. You haven’t been listening-” Miyadate’s words were rushed, an indicator that he was also getting irritated.
“So? Do you expect me to listen to you all the time? You’re not Mama. Not even Papa tells me-”
Miyadate exhaled loudly, all of them had not been in the best of moods, fatigue weighing heavily on their emotions. He looked away from Watanabe and noticed Abe’s gaze on him, there was a frown marring the youngest face, and the uncommon expression was enough to make Miyadate blinked, keeping a hold on his temper before he lashed out further.
He took another breath, this time a quiet one, and counted to ten in his head.
“I worry about you, Shota.” His tone was back to his usual gentle one, and he turned to look at Watanabe again, his eyes honest and concerned.
The anger in Watanabe deflated instantly, the stiff tension left his shoulders and his fists uncurled by his sides. He bit his bottom lip, staring at the food on the table.
“I'll have more meat.” Watanabe finally said, moving back to his seat, and Miyadate sat down beside him almost immediately.
Miyadate took two pieces of meat from the plate and put them in Watanabe’s bowl.
“Thanks, Ryota.” Watanabe took up his chopsticks again and began to eat.
At the other corner of the room, Sakuma continued watching anime on his phone, oblivious of the exchange.
Watanabe waited until they were on the quiet train, seated beside each other, before slipping a hand behind Miyadate, pressing lightly against the small of the latter’s back. “Does it hurt?”
“Uh…?” Miyadate blinked, trying to fight against his drowsiness now that their work was over for the day.
“My knee banged into you when I fell.” Watanabe pointed out, brushing his fingers across the clothed skin, caressing.
“Oh.” Miyadate’s eyes became focused as he remembered. “I'm going to be okay.” Their bodies had been aching in new areas every day that it had become difficult to discern new pain from old ones. He turned his head and looked at Watanabe carefully. “Are you alright?”
Watanabe laughed softly. “You're always looking out for me. Even just now, after I knocked into you, your first instinct was to stretch out your hands to support me if I've fallen.”
Miyadate did not speak further, but he leaned closer to Watanabe next to him, as the train headed towards home.
Miyadate felt more than heard Watanabe straddling his back, before hard fingers coming to work on the knots of his shoulders. He shifted, relaxing himself further onto the mattress under him, burying his head into the pillow.
Watanabe’s hands continued to work efficiently, pressing on the right spots with enough pressure, soothing out Miyadate’s sore muscles.
Miyadate was nearly asleep when he felt Watanabe finally lifted and moved off his body. He turned his head so that Watanabe could hear him. “Do you want a massage too?”
“Nope, I've was at the masseur earlier. And I've gotten something for you from there.”
Miyadate opened his eyes and turned his body to face up, looking at Watanabe.
Watanabe handed a black cloth over; Miyadate unfolded it, before recognizing it as a shoulder braces.
“Wear it during the breakdance, won't you?”
Miyadate looked at the braces thoughtfully. “The fans will worry if they see this on me.”
“They will worry more if you end up with plasters.” Watanabe reasoned.
Miyadate shrugged helplessly, before his lips quirked into a smile. “You're right.”
Watanabe rubbed his eye, stretching himself underneath the blanket as he became conscious of his surroundings. He sat up on the bed slowly, realizing he was alone in the room. He cast a glance at the clock on the nightstand, it was already early afternoon, which meant that he had slept more than half the day away. He yawned lazily, before finally standing up, leaving the room.
Not surprisingly, he found Miyadate in the kitchen after brushing his teeth.
“You're awake.” Miyadate greeted him.
“Morning.” Watanabe replied as he took the glass of water Miyadate offered him, downing it in a few gulps, feeling awake for the first time in months. “What have you cooked?”
“Roast beef. And you woke up just at the right time.”
Watanabe hummed appreciatively as he bit into the meat. “Almost as good as Kamenashi-kun’s.”
“You're the one who said criticism is for us to move on to the next level of greatness.” Watanabe answered in a wise manner.
Miyadate laughed. “I'll work harder.”
You're up, airplanewishes