#that shin soukoku slowly begin to realize how much they mean to each other and how important the other person is to them

[toastandturnip]

I swear to god if when Atsushi finally asks why Akutagawa sacrificed himself for him and Akutagawa answers with "because Dazai told me to" or something along those lines I will literally stop reading bsd for the rest of my life

[shinsoukokuvalentine]

Real

(You have no idea how excited I am to post this. I’m super proud of this and I hope you love it as much as I do!

For Shin Soukoku Week, Day 7: Free Day)

212/365: Real

For the first time in years, Atsushi’s hands shake as he takes the mic.

It’s just a publicity stunt, he tells himself, taking a deep breath, it’ll blow over soon enough, and then you can stop.

He looks over at Ryuu, who waves to the cheering crowd in front of the stage, blowing random, chaste kisses that cause his fangirls to squeal with delight.

Ryuu had consented to this. He had sat there right next to Atsushi, protesting along with him at first, but after being told the advantages by Mori, Ryuu had simply begun to agree and nod his head. Atsushi didn’t have a chance to speak out against the two of them. He was the newest member, after all.

So he waits, smiling as he usually does, hoping the audience sees the sweat on his face as typical post-performance exhaustion. He waits as Ryuu makes his way over to him, striding with purpose in a few seconds that seem to stretch on for hours.

Finally, Ryuu takes the mic as well, his fingers wrapping around Atsushi’s own. He leans in, and Atsushi mirrors him as instructed.

“I have an announcement to make,” Ryuu says with his typical nonchalance, a characteristic that at least a fourth of their fangirls seem to swoon over.

If the crowd quiets, it’s only by the smallest margin. Ryuu wraps his other arm around Atsushi’s waist, and the crowd gets even louder, cheering and clapping and waving their glowsticks through the air.

Ryuu speaks again, and his lie causes blush to burst across Atsushi’s face, which he instinctively covers with his gloved hand.

“Atsushi-kun and I are dating.”

The crowd’s joyous screams probably fractured a few eardrums.

x

“That’s it,” Atsushi growls, slamming the backstage door shut behind him. “Mori-san is evil, and we need to get a new producer.”

“You know that without PORT, we’d still be working in convenience stores, right?” Chuuya points out, lifting the cooling towel from his forehead just enough to give Atsushi the side-eye. Atsushi huffs and throws himself down on the nearest stool.

“Without PORT, I wouldn’t have to look like I’m dating him,” he shoots back, glad Ryuu’s not in the room to hear him.

“But it’ll make our publicity skyrocket,” Dazai says. He sits in front of one of the mirrors, wiping stage makeup off his face. “You know fans have shipped you two since you joined the band. They’ll practically be eating out of our hands now.”

Atsushi groans, crossing his arms in front of his chest and throwing his head back. “They already were,” he says. “Hopefully this’ll go like Mori-san says and will just blow over. I don’t know how long I can pretend to like him.”

“Uh, Atsushi?” He hears Chuuya speak up, and he lifts his head in time to see Ryuu glaring at him, standing in the doorway. Atsushi goes pale.

“I-i mean, uh,” he stammers, trying to come up with an excuse, but Ryuu leaves as quickly as he came, slamming the door behind him with such force that Chuuya nearly falls off the couch.

x

They have to keep up the illusion. That’s what Mori said. That’s why they hold hands walking on stage, why they look into each other’s eyes instead of at the crowd when they sing love songs.

At first, it’s enough to make Atsushi’s stomach turn. But Atsushi nearly catches himself falling for the ruse multiple times, starting to enjoy the attention Ryuu gives him, the affection, even the gentle way he holds his hand.

But then he reminds himself it’s a trick, and a frown almost crosses his face before he snuffs it out and grins at the crowd. Every time he hits that realization after breaking out of a two-second dream, every time he reminds himself that it’s Ryuu of all people showing him this affection, it feels like betrayal stabbing into his gut. It makes him long for the day that they can stop pretending and just go back to being their normal selves, so he and their fans don’t have to fall for their lies over and over again.

That is, until Ryuu kisses him on the cheek.

The crowd screams. Atsushi’s face heats up again, like fire and ice and electricity all at once, bursting from where Ryuu’s lips touched his skin. Ryuu pulls away immediately, turning and waving to the audience again as if it was nothing, and Atsushi tries to brush it off as well, bursting into laughter as fake as their relationship.

But we wouldn’t have come this far if he wasn’t good at acting.

x

Sharing hotel rooms becomes commonplace, and while at first Atsushi struggles to be in the same room with Ryuu for an extended period of time, they soon learn how to share a space as long as they keep their distance from each other.

“This is the opposite of distance,” Atsushi hisses, nearly ready to shatter his phone. Mori had rented hotel rooms for them on the next spot of their tour, but either he forgot how many band members BSD had or he knew exactly what he was doing, because he had only rented three rooms for four people.

And Atsushi has a feeling he knows who will be sharing a room.

“I’m taking the couch,” Atsushi snaps, throwing his pillow down on it as soon as he steps in the door. Ryuu frowns.

“That’s a loveseat,” he points out. Atsushi rolls his eyes.

“I don’t see your point.”

“There’s no way you can squeeze on that, Jinko,” he says. Atsushi avoids pointing out that it’s better than the alternative, preferring to simply say nothing as he unpacks.

Ryuu only leaves him in silence for a moment.

“You’ll hurt your back if you sleep on that thing.”

“I’ll be fine,” Atsushi says sternly, sitting on the loveseat. It’s hard as a board.

Ryuu must notice this, for he raises an eyebrow. Atsushi crosses his arms stubbornly.

“I’ll be fine,” he repeats.

He tells himself this, over and over, until he’s tried for over an hour to get to sleep on that tiny cement block. With an exhausted groan, he gives up.

“Ryuu-kun?” He whispers into the dark room. It takes a second, but he finally hears a small grunt from the bed. “Can I sleep with you?” The question feels strange on Atsushi’s lips, and very quickly Atsushi worries that he’s crossed a line. They’re not actually dating, and that’s not a thing bandmates ask each other, he reminds himself.

Atsushi opens his mouth, ready to say that he takes it all back, but Ryuu makes another sound. It takes a moment for Atsushi to realize that he said “mm-hmm.”

Atsushi takes a deep breath. He slides off the couch, taking his pillow with him, and makes his way over to the bed in time to see Ryuu scoot to the side, even holding up the duvet so that Atsushi can get under with him.

Heart hammering in his chest, Atsushi slowly crawls beneath the covers, watching Ryuu’s face for any sign of discomfort, but Ryuu’s eyes remain closed, his expression neutral. Atsushi’s own anxiety seems to melt away as he allows his body to settle into the soft mattress, even letting out a small sigh and allowing a smile to form on his lips.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Ryuu must have fallen back to sleep, for he says nothing. Instead, he nuzzles close to Atsushi, practically cuddling him. Atsushi stiffens again, eyes widening.

But then, he sees the calm and peace on Ryuu’s face. He sees the gentle way his chest rises and falls, small breaths escaping his slightly-parted lips. There’s no tension in his posture, like there is when the band is alone, and there’s no show in his motions, like there is when they’re onstage.

There’s only Ryuu, at his purest and most vulnerable, and he has allowed Atsushi to see him like this.

In spite of himself, Atsushi finds himself relaxing again as he smiles.

“Sleep well,” he whispers.

x

Atsushi isn’t sure what changed. At least, that’s what he tells himself. If he truly thinks, he knows exactly what changed, when it changed, and why it changed. If that small kiss on the cheek shook him, that one night in the hotel shook Atsushi’s entire world.

But he chooses not to think about that. Their relationship is a farce, a career strategy. It’s purely business, and nothing more.

So why does Atsushi catch Ryuu staring at him, even when there are no cameras? Why does he still hold his hand, even when they’ve stepped offstage? Why does he still kiss his cheek, even when they’re simply parting ways to go to their own rooms?

Why does Atsushi let him do all these things?

It’s for the lie. It must be. It’s all for the sake of staying in character, of giving the audience what they want. It’s all a farce.

That’s why Atsushi nearly crushes the flowers he finds outside his door the next morning.

“What are these?!” He yells, storming into Ryuu’s room. From his desk, Ryuu raises an eyebrow.

“I should think it simple enough to figure out,” he says. His placid tone only infuriates Atsushi further. “They’re flowers, Jinko.”

“I can see that they’re flowers!” Atsushi shouts, ready to throw the bouquet onto the floor. He doesn’t. “I mean why do you keep doing this?!”

Ryuu’s eyes narrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Before Atsushi knows what he’s doing, he’s stormed over to Ryuu, tossed the bouquet onto the couch, and grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Roars Atsushi. “No one’s looking at us! No one’s watching! Why play with my feelings when no one’s around to squeal at it?!”

Ryuu’s expression doesn’t change. He stays silent. Atsushi squeezes his eyes shut when he sees his vision begin to blur, and he lets go of Ryuu’s shirt, stepping back as if that could make his tears any less obvious.

“What if I started to develop feelings for you? Is that all part of your game, too? Will you not leave me alone because you’re teasing me about it?” He stops when his voice breaks. He wipes away tears with his sleeve, sniffing unceremoniously.

He didn’t notice Ryuu get up from his chair. All he feels are arms suddenly around him, holding him close, accompanied by a scent that’s grown oh-so familiar in the past few months.

His arms seem to move on their own, and soon he’s holding Ryuu as well.

“Atsushi-kun,” Ryuu murmurs in an unfamiliar, gentle tone, his lips close to Atsushi’s ear, “why do you think I agreed to pretend?”

Atsushi opens his mouth, but no answer comes out. He rolls the question over and over in his mind, each time picking up more and more evidence, revealing the reason that Atsushi had always feared since the beginning.

But now, somehow, nestled in Ryuu’s embrace, he feels no fear at all.

Atsushi isn’t sure who moves first. He isn’t sure when it begins, nor when it will end. All he knows is that they’re kissing and Ryuu’s lips are soft and his tongue feels so good against his.

All he knows is that Ryuu was never pretending.