#ok so this kind of got away from me. but theater shuake has been on the mind…

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

p5 hs au where they’re mostly all musical theater losers except one day transfer delinquent akira decides to try out for the winter musical and gets the lead male role despite having absolutely no vocal and or acting experience at all and akechi—dedicated to his craft nerd, semi-spotlight hoarder—is infuriated at this, even more so that he was chosen to be this delinquent’s understudy despite readily earning all other male leads prior. to make matters worse akira seems to genuinely want his friendship and everyone else in the department adores him so akechi has to be cordial and their relationship slowly progresses from akechi laying in bed at night weighing the merits of poisoning akira right before opening night to him begrudgingly agreeing to help run lines in the goddamn attic of his uncle’s cafe that was supposedly his residence for the whole delinquent-expulsion thing he’d wedged himself into to him kind-of-sort-of-maybe enjoying his company outside of rehearsal more—platonically, obviously, no really, because goro didn’t even swing that way to begin with, just because he was a broadway geek didn’t make him gay, alright—he’d expected (sumire teases him about this relentlessly and it almost makes him want to pull a poisoning stunt on her instead. but then who would be the show’s leading lady?). and of course, the musical opens without a hitch, and goro sneaks into the audience for act I and wonders why he ever doubted kawakami’s casting in the first place, because akira’s voice is strong and melodic and echoes—yes, it fucking echoes throughout the cheap auditorium, mic and all—and there’s the slightest hint of perspiration upon his brow and goro can see the sheen of the makeup he’d applied to the former’s face long before the show had began, and, in any and all ways, he is the perfect prince eric to sumire’s ariel, and if there’s a something in his chest every time akira sings or acts or dances and absolutely enraptures the audience with his stupidly magnetic everything, goro chalks it up to the magic of theater. intermission arrives much too soon, and he sneaks backstage to revitalize the cast for a stellar act II, and suddenly akira is dragging him to a secluded dressing room, eyes wide and frantic and he tells him that he can’t do this, he’s not an actor, he’s not a singer, and he is certainly not a prince eric and at the end of all this rambling he tells goro that he has to go out there in the next act in his stead because god knows that he was more deserving of the role than akira himself ever was and he’s probably just making a huge fool out of himself and their entire department out on stage and sumire deserves a fellow lead who has far more experience and talent that he could ever provide—and then, there are lips on his. it’s quick and chaste because it is intermission after all, and they’re on a time crunch, but goro knocks their foreheads together, not caring in the slightest about tarnishing akira’s makeup, and they breathe in each other’s being, and, well, akira’s been wanting that kiss for far longer—the first time he saw goro—than he’s willing to admit, and when the former tells him to get it the fuck together because he’s killing it out there and also the crowd would probably beat akechi with hammers if he replaced him because, yes, akira’s performance had been so astonishing and riveting even only one act down so far, he laughs softly, helplessly perhaps, and then he nods, trying desperately not to cry because he doesn’t think he has the time to fix his makeup any more extensively than he already will have to in the next few minutes.

so akechi send akira back on stage to finish the musical, and he watches from the audience once more as the chemistry between the two leads, as well as just about everything akira does, enraptures the whole audience, and their performance concludes with deafening applause. they nearly collide with one another, both desperate to reach the other post-performance, and he hugs akira so tightly and laughs and cheers so loudly that it’s drawing slight attention, not that akechi would ever care about what anyone thinks anyways, and he certainly displays his lack of care for passerby-confusion when he’s pulling akira into a kiss so deep, so desperately-desired by both for so long that they’re lost in each other completely, so lost that they don’t hear sumire’s light, amused gasp or the click of ann’s polaroid, because why would they break a moment they both want to stay in forever? and akechi thinks to himself, maybe he could get used to this guy stealing his roles if it meant he gets to occasionally wake up in the attic above a homely little cafe with a cat purring next to him and grey eyes staring forever into his.