Archive of Our Own

A world like this would produce days that were out of the ordinary, and that did keep things interesting, but it had gone a little differently that day. It wasn't in a there was a literal catgirl on the show way, or a someone did a magic trick so believable that it likely was some sort of black magic way. Those things were fun! Sasara could get used to that!

It was a sat down with an interviewer and he was asked specifically about his partner, who was a teacher at the school way. That was a little too on-the-nose. He hadn't rehearsed for a question like that. He'd dropped his smile entirely, blinked stupidly at them, and asked them to repeat the question. He looked like an idiot. And it was live. Sasara played it off, saying that it was probably because a kid that looked just like him was supposedly roaming around. But it had taken him a significant amount of time to make up that lie. He could practically hear the crickets.

He was cracking open a beer, closing the refrigerator door with his hip when he heard Rosho unlock the door. With a sigh, he opened it back up and grabbed a second one. "Welcome home!" He called, cheerful as ever as he heard the shoes come off and the bag hit the floor. "Here, a cold one! Just for you."

He threw it at Rosho, not really giving him a warning it was getting lobbed toward him. "We need to talk." That came without warning, too.

The thing about working with kids was that they were nosy.

Rosho knew this. Rosho knew this well, in fact. Ever since he'd started teaching, there'd been kids asking him all sorts of things about anything that they could think of, mostly about himself. 'Why do you stutter when you talk to all of us but you're fine talking to us one on one', 'why do you wear that stupid chain on your glasses', 'is your hair naturally that purple', literally anything. The questions only increased in number once he'd been through one DRB. He thought he'd get used to it over time, but... with the change in location came changes in questions. And changes in frequency of questions. And it got exhausting very, very quickly.

The other thing about kids was that they were observant.

When Sasara had walked in to Rosho's classroom on April Fool's Day, taken a seat, and begun to take notes, he was difficult to ignore. Partially due to the fact that he was a grown adult suddenly existing within their humble classroom, but also partially due to the fact that he was a celebrity. A celebrity that had shown up to join them for a math class, actually interacted, and there was no camera crew to film the whole thing. They were curious. They were rightfully curious.

Combining their nosiness with their observance had led to an even newer onslaught of questions.

They asked what Sasara had been doing there, so Rosho told them.

They asked why their class, so Rosho told them.
They asked how the two of them knew each other...
... so Rosho told them.

He's my partner. The implication of the phrase hadn't dawned on him until he'd said it, but by then, it was too late to take back that specific word from the hearts, ears, and minds of inquiring little heads. There was no correcting what he'd said. He couldn't even tag on a 'comedy' there anymore, or a 'rap battle', or... anything else, because none of those things mattered. They'd gotten what they wanted out of him. A confession.

"So that's why you're wearing a ring all of a sudden", and "You're engaged to a comedian, Ro-sensei?", and "Is he as funny at home as he is on TV?"

And sure, Rosho's students were good kids. He'd made them promise to not tell anyone else about what he'd said, or that there'd be consequences.

But, unfortunately, kids were still kids. He could trust them, but he couldn't trust them to the extent that he could trust another adult. Especially not when teenagers absolutely loved to gossip. He had to take it for what it was, and just... hope and pray that word didn't spread too wide and far that he'd definitely said the wrong thing. It'd been a few days. Hopefully they'd forgotten about it by now, and he wouldn't have to worry too much.

Off came his shoes and down went his bag. They were rowdy today. All he wanted was to come home, see Sasara, and have a beer.
Not thrown at him, but fuck, that looked like what he was getting. He yelped as he scrambled to grab the can, frowning up at his fiance who...
... had a serious look on his face. Who wanted to talk.

He felt his stomach twist.

"... Thanks." He cracked open the can. "What about?"

He knew it was wrong to lead with something so obvious, but it wasn't like he was saying they needed to talk and giving Rosho time to stew in it. It wasn't like he was going to drop it and pick it up again. Even if he was still learning how to be open with his partner, even if he wasn't sure how to be completely truthful, Sasara knew Rosho. He paid so much attention to the point he could recreate the cadence of his voice in his head, he could write jokes in the same style as him and take inspiration from himself, and he knew Rosho just felt like he was punched in the gut.

He knew it felt the same as Sasara had on camera that day.

"Today I had that interview about the big show coming up. It was pretty standard! But! We got into routines and home life. And." Sasara sighed, not sure exactly how he felt in the moment. "They asked about my boyfriend, the math teacher."

He paused, still trying to figure out how to tackle it. How to feel. How to fix it. Ah, well. He took a long, long drink of his beer. "Wasn't even a question whether or not I was with you. Like someone told them directly. And I know none of my friends would've leaked it. So."

Disappointed, maybe. Upset. Relieved? No idea. Whatever it was, it wasn't funny.

"It was a mistake."

... Alright, maybe that wasn't the correct way to word that sentiment. Especially not when Sasara was already upset with him. He didn't want him to think that that was in reference to the relationship, because god, their relationship was the farthest thing from a mistake. Despite the way his stomach decided to spin itself in circles, Rosho took a swig from the can in his hand. A good, long one. One that would hopefully make his stupid brain find a way to word his explanation without sounding like an idiot.

He swished the can in his hand as he pulled it from his mouth, feeling the liquid sloshing around.

"... Remember how you came into the classroom for April Fool's Day? The students wanted to know who you were, and how we knew each other." Because obviously a handful of them already knew who he was. Even here, it was difficult not to know who Sasara was, at this point. "And I made the mistake of calling you my partner."

Because it's what I'm used to calling you.

"Obviously, they interpreted that as they saw fit. I didn't confirm or deny anything outside of using that word, and I made them swear to keep it to themselves. ... But they're children."

Another swig.

"I'm sorry. It was an honest mistake."

That still didn't seem to fit. If it was just a child who told them that, it wouldn't have been so matter-of-fact, would it have been? And why would he be apologizing for just calling himself his partner? The April Fool's Day thing could've just been played off as him being in school. He could've just said that they were friends, that they knew each other from comedy college, something like that.

But Rosho thought he was more angry than he actually was, didn't he? Yeah, that was probably it.

"I denied it. I tried playing it off but I don't think it worked." He downed the rest of it, a little upset at it being just his first. There was no way he was going to get even a tickle from stupid watered-down wheat soda. "So whatever they found out had to be pretty specific."

He stared at the empty can for a moment longer than he should have, letting the air hang heavy in the room, before he just took a few steps and threw it into the sink. He'd take care of it later.

"So. We have to think about what I say the next time it comes up. Because it will."

It wasn't like Rosho to keep things. It really, really wasn't like him to half-ass an explanation. Because yes, maybe he'd used a different word other than partner. He hadn't used fiance. That would have made it too real, and the children were allowed to infer what they wanted from the ring on his finger anyway. He shouldn't have said anything at all. He knew he shouldn't have said anything at all. He should have said they were comedy partners back in the day, but that would have invited questions about the 'comedy' aspect, and-

The throwing of the empty can into the sink was enough to startle him out of his thought spiral, his hand instinctively gripping his own.

Instead of dwelling on the it didn't work part, Rosho decided to focus on the 'what to say in the future' part.

"Alright. Did you have anything in mind? …For what you wanted to say when it. When it comes up."

"Well, we know they know we're at least dating. And I'm not telling you to take the ring off in public, but..." This felt cruel. He quite literally shook away the words he was about to say. "I don't want to tell anyone. It just doesn't go well no matter how I try and think about it, but I don't think I can manipulate myself out of this. It’s too many people. I’m not that good."

He wanted to keep his career, of course, but he didn't want to lose his fiance. He had every intention of staying with him forever - just like he promised. "Rosho, you know now that they've figured out there's going to be eyes all over you. We'll have to start shutting the blinds. I'll start getting less work because I’m unavailable and being asked just questions about you. People will show up at the school to ask you about me."

A pause.

"I don't know what to say when they ask again... at all. We’re fucked. So you need to make a choice."

To be honest... Rosho hadn't thought of it like that.

Being engaged to a celebrity came with the drawback that your relationship had to be kept on the downlow, lest one wanted to make a huge deal out of it. Even if not entirely secret, the knowledge had to be kept away from any reporters that may or may not use it to their advantage. This was common sense, Rosho knew. Common sense that he'd actively forgotten in the exact moment that he'd needed it.

As he listened to Sasara speak, he could physically feel himself deflate.
He didn't have anything to say.

He squeezed the can in his hand, and he looked at the floor, and he tried to think of some way to fix this. As if there was any way, short of time travel. Which, for all its marvels, the Bubble seemed to have not achieved yet.

"... I'm sorry."

Apologies helped nothing. Apologies would fix nothing. He knew this.

The words I didn't mean to died on his tongue, because they, too, were useless. Sasara was aware of that. Repeating himself only made him sound stupider. Bringing up the idea of 'calling things off' was stupid and harmful, and it was the exact kind of thing he would have done a few years ago. Sabotage everything in order to keep Sasara afloat, just as he'd done in the past. But this wasn't just about Sasara, was it? Not this time. He'd roped himself into this whether he liked it or not.

He squeezed the can again, willing himself not to crush it altogether.

"I don't know how I can help."

There had to be some sort of compromise or else it was going to start getting worse - Rosho was already shutting down. From his body language to the quiver in his voice, he was close to running. Sasara could already feel himself getting angry. He wished he'd had a few more beers before his fiancé had come home, but it was much too late to start slamming them down. If he did that, boy oh boy! That would be terrible. That would've made this an entirely different battle.

Not that it was exactly a fight now , but... the way the anger bubbled up inside somewhere Sasara wished it wouldn't - especially for Rosho, of all people - let him know it was bound to be a fight.

"I guess we just... play it by ear. Get a better security system... and get ready for people to start bothering you. If this hurts what I've got going on, I guess it'll be fine."

It won't be fine.
Why do you keep me around when all I do is fuck things up for you?

Bringing that up now would only serve to aggravate Sasara even further, and so, Rosho refrained from doing so. Not saying anything, however, did not make the incessant voice in the back of his head shut up. Because it was true! He was a master of sabotaging Sasara's career. Even if he wasn't directly involved in it anymore, he still somehow managed to fuck something up.

Part of him wanted to point out that if Sasara hadn't done his silly little April Fools day prank to begin with, the children wouldn't have asked about him. But that would backfire almost immediately, surely --- because he himself could have just said they were friends. None of that was Sasara's fault. It was all on him for using the incorrect word in front of a bunch of children. It was his fault. There wasn't any point in trying to pin the blame on someone who didn't deserve it.

Another part of him wanted to suggest the idea that he should just get over himself and start doing comedy with Sasara again, so that people could see that partner was "really just a silly way to say 'business partner'!" ... Except the sheer thought of that made him feel sick, so it wasn't a viable option. As much as he wished it was.

"... I'll keep the ring here." He spoke at the floor, more parsing out ideas than anything. "You can publicly denounce any rumors."
I'll move back out to make it easier for you. And when they stop caring, we can be with each other more often again.
I can run away, just like I always do.

Sasara's eyes must've felt heavy on Rosho, as he was no longer able to catch his gaze. The tell-tale sign that things were about to get worse. That it was all going south. That he was going to clam up and run away again. He was going to leave. He was going to leave.

Part of him wouldn't mind Rosho running away. He always seemed to come back, anyhow, so would it really be so bad?

That's when he remembered what the ring was supposed to represent.

That they were going to get married. He probably shouldn't denounce the man he was supposed to be literally getting joined to forever. Even if it would hurt his career, even if it would make things a thousand times more difficult. Despite Rosho's stage fright he was so quick to talk. He was always terrible with questions. He was always easily manipulated. He was so gullible it was pathetic.

"You don't want me to denounce them, do you?" He wasn't sure which emotion to put in his words, as he knew anger wouldn't be right and it wasn't the time for anything cheery. So he elected to get rid of them all. 

"Of course I don't."

Rosho didn't expect to be spitting words at the floor with such anger. Especially not toward Sasara in a non-joking context.

But he was angry. Of course he didn't want to have their relationship publicly denounced. Of course he didn't want to live the rest of his life pretending that the two of them were just friends.  Of course he didn't want to have to hide the ring that meant so much to him from other people just because of a stupid fucking job . But what other choice did they have? He couldn't risk harming Sasara's career a second time. He'd already done so once, and this wasn't exactly supposed to work on a 'three strikes and you're out' system. All he wanted to do was what was best by Sasara. Just as he was used to doing. Letting everyone else take the lead, letting himself be manipulated into place like he was supposed to be.

"Tell me what you want, then."

What did he want, really?

"What I want is to be able to tell people that I love you without running the risk of fucking things up for the second time." He didn't want to lean too heavy into the self deprication. Wallowing in his stupid self pity would only serve to escalate the situation in a negative way, and both of them were already angrier than he would have liked. "But I know we ain't got that sort of choice. So I'll keep the ring here. And you'll tell people that we aren't together. And we'll keep it as secret as we can, 'cause that's what's safe, 'nd that's what we know's the best option."

"Why the hell are you shutting yourself down that fast? Grow a pair, wouldja!?" That was a lot, a lot more aggressive than he meant for it to come out. Great! Now Sasara was going to make him cry.

"Look! I love you! Okay? Tell me what you want. Don't just feed me some bullshit right after. I'm askin' you. If we're gonna be married I don't want you to sit there and regret shit just because you thought it would make me happy. You roll over and do whatever they ask to everybody else in the world, why are you doing that for me right now!? I'm supposed to be different. I'm not trying to fuckin' rob you or make you do something. I’m not fuckin’ using you, Rosho." No matter how angry he sounded, he didn't regret it. Every couple had to have a shouting match eventually, right? At least he could be sure this one wouldn't end in a fistfight. They'd never devolve into that. Probably. "This isn't fun, Rosho."

"No shit it ain't fun!"

He hadn't meant to shout back. He really, really hadn't meant to shout. But in all honesty, Rosho didn't regret it. He loved Sasara, he loved the man with all of his heart, but his aggression was going to be met with aggression. He was certain that Sasara probably had it in his head that he'd shrink up, or back down, or what have you. But Christ above. What was so wrong with wanting to do what was best for both of them?! What was so wrong with going with the logical and safe option? Did Sasara want to lose job opportunities? Wasn’t that what he started out being upset over? Was that his point here?

"I'm tryin' to do what's best for you because it's your life that's gonna be put on the line. Who gives a fuck how it effects me? I ain't the one who's gonna be losin' work because of some stupid bullshit like decidin' to marry some dumbfuck math teacher who can't even keep 'is mouth shut fer two goddamn seconds!" He needed to calm down. He really needed to calm down. But the telltale tears welling up in his eyes told him that that was far from a possibility right now, and his voice heightening in volume proved that true. "What I want, Sasara, is t'be able to be open. But that's not a fuckin' option. Both of us know it ain't a fuckin' option. Stop screamin' at me just because I want to fuckin' protect you!"

The can in his hand met the countertop with such force that the contents within it spilled over his hand, though Rosho couldn't give less of a fuck. He didn't care about the mess. He didn't care about anything. His clean hand pushed back the strands of hair that'd fallen out of place on his head, and the sigh that left him was shaky.

"I'm going outside."

"Oh, come on -"

He was certain that Sasara saw this coming. The fact that Rosho felt the need to flee from the conversations that were too heavy for him to handle. The need to eject himself from anything that he deemed as being too much pressure, lest he crack like glass under its weight. It wasn't a shocking move. It was important for him to state, however, that he wasn't leaving -- just leaving the immediate vicinity. He didn't give Sasara time to attempt to stop him, simply turning on his heel and returning to the entryway to put his shoes back on.

He didn't give a fuck how loud the thunder was outside. Being soaked would be better than dealing with whatever he'd turned this shit show into.

Sasara hadn't craved a cigarette this bad in weeks, but he wasn't about to light up in their home. He put his head in his hands, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself the hell down. Neither of them needed whatever just happened, but the catharsis of finally shouting at Rosho to make a damn decision for himself and not just Sasara was still... nice. Even if it probably fucked up everything he fought so damn hard to finally get. All of that time spent yanking Rosho into his home just to scream at him when it got difficult...

Damn, he was bad at this.

The thunder that shook the house didn't help him either. Sasara knew he should probably run out and chase after him, that he should beg Rosho just to come back inside and let it rest until they talked it out a little better... but the rain falling on the roof was loud enough to cloud his thoughts. It was over. It would be better for him to just leave it be, just like before. Even if the first few years without Rosho were so difficult, he survived, right? He eventually got everything he set out to get. Even in this world, he was doing so well without him. Even if he saw Rosho in everything he did, in every person he met along the way, he made it. He was fine without him.

Even if he was lonely, he deserved that. That was Sasara's tragic comedy - to live such a silly, thrilling life but come home to nothing was just how it was supposed to be.

He stood there, angry, for far longer than he probably should have. He pitied himself and reminded himself of all of the pros and cons, good and bad, until it hit him.

Sasara had almost died in this world. He ran from that fact every day, pretending it never got to him. Pretending he'd forgotten the pain and the confusion and almost believing it for himself. He was a coward somewhere deep down; his goal before he'd been left in the rain was to keep his nose out of trouble. (Now that was funny.)

Every moment Rosho had been in his life, he'd been safe. He only ever had his ass handed to him or was beaten upside the head with a metal pole in times where Rosho hadn't been there. If he had been with him during the fall, he wouldn't have been on the top floor of that building, would he have been? And if Rosho wasn't there as he bled out, would he have survived?

Did the career truly matter here?
Did he not just want to live, like a normal person? Like every other Nurude before him?
Could he give it up for love?
Could a Nurude be successful at that?

Without even putting his shoes back on, Sasara raced for the door, leaving it open as he ran. The rain was a lot heavier than he was expecting, almost painful as it hit his skin. It was cold, soaking him to the bone in an instant, and the thunder clapped loud enough to make him shiver. He wanted to turn tail and go back inside. He wanted the lightning to strike him down. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend it wasn’t happening.

"Rosho!"

Rosho hadn't been outside for more than five seconds before he was completely soaked through. Almost instantaneously his clothes clung heavy to his skin, the weight of them feeling like the weight of the world was sat squarely on his shoulders. It was basically a guarantee that he was going to catch a cold pulling some stupid shit like this, but he didn't care. He needed to leave. He'd come back when both of them had cooled down enough to have a proper conversation. When he didn't have it in him to shout anymore. When he wasn't standing halfway to the end of the block in the pouring fucking rain, posted up against a stop sign, sobbing into his fists like this wasn't his own god damned fault.

Sasara Nurude was a charismatic man. A man hiding many secrets, many of which Rosho only knew bits or pieces of. A man who's silly outward exterior hid beneath it some deep rooted pain that he knew better than to poke around at. They'd met where they'd met for obvious reasons -- Sasara had a dream that he wanted to pursue. And he'd done so. And he'd been really fucking good at it. A comedian blowing up in one world was a stroke of luck in itself. Blowing up in two? He was nothing short of genius. It was hard to break through in the world of stand up comedy at that caliber. Sasara was really, really good at what he did. He was talented. And the things that he did, the laughs that he brought to people... they all seemed to bring him such genuine joy. He liked making people smile. Or, at least, it seemed that way to Rosho.

Was it wrong of him to not want to ruin it?
Was it wrong of him to want to preserve those smiles?
Was it wrong of him to want to hide their relationship away, to disregard the thing that made him the happiest, all for the sake of other people?

The anguished wail of his name caused him to tense so violently and abruptly that it hurt, pulling him straight out of his thoughts.

Had Sasara followed him out here?! Dumbass, he said he wasn't leaving-

... He wasn't leaving.
He wasn't going to leave him in the rain this time. He wasn't going anywhere. Even if he was pissed off, even if he was upset.... he wasn't leaving.
He promised.

Rosho whipped around so fast that he nearly slipped. His first few steps on the flooding pavement below him were unsteady, hesitant. He knew that it had to be difficult for Sasara to see that he hadn't gone too far through the downpour. It was difficult enough to see two feet in front of him, let alone however many feet he'd walked. It wouldn't be wise for him to start running -- he'd probably slip and bust his ass, and that would be a whole new problem to worry about -- and so he continued to walk back in the direction of the house.

"I'm here, Sasara," He called back, his voice cracking both from the tears and from the volume. "I'm right here."

Sasara wasn't a man that cried. He would ooze crocodile tears here and there either for a laugh or for the drama of it all, but they had never been all that true. He thought maybe the last time he did that was when he and Rosho admitted their feelings for each other, finally - and that seemed so long ago now.

"O-okay." He stood where he was, not wanting to bring any attention to his own voice sputtering out of his chest. What kind of a man hated rain like this? He felt like a child. The same child that put on those ridiculous outfits and stood on the chair, singing a stupid song to maybe tear Mommy's attention away from the paperwork on the table. The same child that took notes when he watched a fucking variety show on primetime TV.

As soon as Rosho was close enough to hear him, he opened his mouth to speak again - only to be interrupted by a crack of thunder, and a slow rumble following after it. He jumped, small and scared, and covered his face. If there were any people buzzing around hoping to get a photo of the two of them, hoping to see Sasara at his worst, they were likely getting a crazy show tonight. His career as a funny guy with no real personality outside of his silly puns would be tossed into the woodchipper by morning.

"Rosho, I know you probably... your head's probably giving you reasons to leave me again." He took his hands away from his face, half-shouting in case the thunder decided to interrupt him. "Please. Please don't leave. Just… Yeah, don’t leave."

"I'm not going anywhere."

It hurt to say. It actually, physically hurt to rip the words from his heart. Sasara was supposed to be funny. "I just… need you to tell me what you want. I'm no good at... playing the straight man, remember? I need you to do it. I need you to give me a script or something."

Grabbing Sasara in a hug when they were both already soaking wet felt nothing short of absolutely abhorrent, but it was important. Rosho had to hug him. He had to make sure that Sasara knew that he wasn't going to go anywhere. Despite his own mind's screaming insistence that the man that he loved would be far better off without him constantly messing things up at every turn, he wasn't going to run away anymore. He'd promised. And the last thing that he wanted to do was break that promise. Even if it killed him to drag Sasara down with him, they were in this together for the long haul now. They were getting married. They were a couple.

He wasn't going to leave. Not anymore.

The hug was, in all honesty, maybe too abrupt and rough. Full of adrenaline and desperate, fueled by his need to protect the vulnerability he'd forced out of the strongest man he'd ever known. Rosho held Sasara to him, and he wasn't sure which one of them was shaking. It was probably him. Maybe it was both of them.

"What I want you to do is what will make you happy."
Except that was as bullshit of an answer as the one he'd given before. So he paused for a moment, and he thought.

".... What I want you to do is tell people that you're happy. I know it'll be difficult for both of us. And I know the constant questions you'll get about us will be annoying. And I know that people are going to want to pry, and that there's going to be eyes on me. And I know it'll mean that you might not get as many jobs as you did before. I know all of these things. I understand the consequences... And I don't want your career to suffer because of me for the second time, Sasara. That's what scares me. I don't want you to lose something you've worked so hard for, and something that you genuinely enjoy, just because of me. But."

Rosho, for the first time ever, found himself grateful for the downpour. Hopefully it'd disguise the tears that he knew were now seeping into Sasara's hair, since he was sure as hell that even the loudest of thunderclaps wouldn't hide the way his voice was waivering. God dammit.

"I'm not going anywhere, no matter what the decision is. I… love you, and I want other people to know that, okay?"

How pitiful it was, to be such a baby about this. Blubbering. Terrified of the rain, that thing that happened for an entire season back home. That thing that was necessary to keep the cycle of life going, that wouldn't inconvenience a normal fucking person beyond needing an umbrella if it was too hard.

It wasn't as though he had a phobia, of course, but the feelings he'd grown over so much time of wishing he had his old life back, wishing he had his old partner back had festered until it had grown into a general disdain, then into hatred. Then into an association that he couldn't tear away from the grey, dark sky - the way the color had faded from his life, too, when Rosho walked away. The way he had to chase the high of whatever they had by throwing himself into danger, much against the Nurude code.

"Okay." Simple. Sasara was almost afraid of the way he may stutter now, terrified of how weak he was looking. How vulnerable. How fucking soft, as he was supposed to keep up his image at all times outside of his own home. The pressure of having eyes on him finally made him snap, until he was clinging onto Rosho just as tightly as he was clinging onto him. "Okay... it'll. Be okay."

He pulled away, making sure they held some sort of eye contact as he spoke. "I don't care if the world falls around me, or if I never... make one more person smile. All that matters is that you do. I can't..."

Fuck, damn it. Why was it difficult when they'd already been engaged? They've already been over this. What was his fuckin' problem.

"I don't... Life isn't fun when you're not at my side. I need you more than I need them." Rosho deserved to hear that. "So... anything. I'll do anything."

"It'll be okay."

Maybe hearing it from a mouth that wasn't his own would settle Sasara's nerves more. This place was so, so much different from the Japan that they were accustomed to. There very rarely seemed to be ridicule here for same-sex relationships, at the very least. Even though celebrity-centric relationships were a completely different animal, it would be easier to deal with one bout of criticism as opposed to two (or even more.) Even if it wasn't entirely okay, it would be more okay than it would have been had they planned on getting married back home. This was supposed to be a dream world, wasn't it? A dream world was far more ideal than a real world would ever be for a situation like this. It'd work out. They'd make it work out, no matter how annoying the people around them might become.

Rosho laid one hand flat against Sasara's back, a small (and perhaps futile) attempt to comfort him. Seeing him so vulnerable, so small... it didn't fit him at all. Even the personality that he rarely let anyone see, much colder and much more quiet, suited him better than this. He'd never seen Sasara's eyes open so wide, and as beautiful of a color as they were, Rosho wished that he got to see them at any other time than one like this. He blinked. Suddenly he was all at once way too aware of the way that they were quite literally staring into each other's eyes.

"I don't ever really stop smiling when I'm around you, you know."

Even if you piss me off sometimes. Even if we fight.
I know that, no matter what, we'll be laughing again soon.

"Just tell them the truth. And if shit happens, we'll fix it somehow. Together, alright?" The together part was important. He really had to hammer in that he wouldn't leave, even if it scared him. Marriage meant 'together forever'. That was sort of how that worked.

Leaning forward, Rosho pressed his lips to Sasara's, holding them there maybe a touch too long before pulling away.

"It'll be okay."

“L-look at you, making a decision.”

“...”