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Toya doesn’t know how he got into this predicament. Well, he does—but he really doesn’t want to think about it. One foot rests on the offside of his room’s balcony, heel teetering off the edge, hands gripped to the top of the balcony so harshly that his knuckles ache—he’s directly sitting on top of it.
“It’s alright,” Akito calls up from below, fingers just grazing the bottom of Toya’s shoe. It’s not a far drop, but it’s a fair height that makes him shudder; alongside the fact that it’s the middle of the fucking night.
He can’t see the ground below him, only the silhouette of his partner patiently waiting for him to climb down. “Take it slow, you got this.”
Does he? Toya lifts his other leg over top of the railing, and crouches. There’s only a slight overhang that his feet can fit on, but it’s sturdy enough. Both his heels are tense with fear.
All he needs to do is take a step back, and trust Akito. God, yes, he trusts Akito; he trusts his partner with his life, but he doesn’t trust himself to make the right movement.
“Are you going to catch me?” Toya asks, for the seventh time no doubt, but the answer is always a calm, reassuring, yeah, I am.
Akito raises his arms, sleeves pulled over his hands. It’s brisk and a bit windy today, in the middle of the night at least, so Toya can’t blame him for his odd amount of jackets layered on top of each other—is one of them his?
“Here, I have an idea,” he squeezes his fingers in the direction of Toya’s waist, “crouch.”
“W—Wait—” Toya’s foot slips back with a small shriek. He holds the glass railing and bends his knees, his hands slipping from the top. His fingertips are the only thing keeping him on. “Be careful—”
Akito laughs. It’s a laugh that’s carried away by the wind quickly, but leaves Toya hanging his head in embarrassment. “...What?”
“You know I won’t drop you. I’d never, swear on my life.” He puts a hand on his chest, right on his heart, and pats it. “C’mon, you’re brave, Toya.”
His palms are slick with sweat. They slide slightly off the railing, and with a yelp, Toya’s heel slips. He bumps off the overhang, and—
“Hup. There you go.”
His feet never touch the ground. Is he dead? Was that taller than he expected? Who’s this lovely angel with such a sweet voice holding him—holding him; oh, Akito caught him.
He staggers back as Akito lets him stand, staring him down. “I told you I’d catch you.”
“I fell though,” he mutters, pivoting on his foot to glare at the overhang. There’s fingerprints of sweat visible on the glass, and scuff marks from his shoes on the flooring. “I didn’t think you’d catch me if I fell.”
Toya rocks on his feet for a moment. The adrenaline coursing through his veins makes him feel… weird. It’s not the same adrenaline as on the stage, or at WEEKEND GARAGE. Or with his partner at any given moment.
“I swore on my life I’d catch you,” Akito raises his hands in surrender, fingers flexing as he steps forward. His hand falls towards Toya’s, interlocking their fingers. “Now, for what I wanted to show ya’.”
The thought, did this have to happen in the middle of the night? courses through his head, but… something about sneaking out and running away makes his heart leap.
Akito's hand tightens around his—he doesn’t know if Akito can read his mind, (it wouldn’t be surprising), but the tight squeeze grounds him. The brisk night air nips at his face and thin clothing, but his partner is warm.
Warm radiates off of him. The sun guiding him in the darkness of the middle of the night.
Streetlights buzz overhead, a couple stray cats running along the neighborhood sidewalks. There’s a gray and an orange one scavenging in a box of someone’s garbage together, chewing at bones left from dinner.
“Are you telling me where we're going?”
“Nope,” Akito swings their hands gently, up and down in motion, “surprise. But we’re almost there.”
Toya closes his eyes. He lets himself be guided—he couldn’t see where they were going, but he knew it wasn’t anywhere familiar just by the turns they took.
Something softer hits his feet, so he finally peeks. Grass. Fun. A gentle hand places itself on his chin, lifting it—he spots it.
A short chain-link fence, with a clear run-down hole ripped straight in the middle of it. Beyond it is a small park. It’s well taken care of; clean, pristine, picnic tables wiped down and slides with their screws tightened. Well-lit, too.
Akito crouches down, slipping through the hole in the fence. His jackets catch on some of the wires sticking out, nicking at the fabric. He brushes himself off as he straightens up, “you don’t have to climb through, you can hop it.”
“I’m okay with climbing through,” he hesitates, a hand hovering over the metal, “I think.”
He kneels down, carefully crawling through the opening. Akito holds a hand out to grab as soon as he’s through—“you’re being clingy today, Aki.”
“Am I?” But he doesn’t let go; Toya doesn’t complain.
Akito leads him to the swing set, the swing inviting him with a slight movement from the wind. Toya hesitantly lets Akito’s hand go, wrapping it around the cold, metal chain—thicker than the fence.
A shiver runs down his spine—he can’t tell if it’s the chill or nerves, “…will I be alright?”
“‘Course you will,” He walks around behind his partner once he sits down, “I won’t push you too high, okay? …Unless you want me to.”
Toya swallows, “we’ll see.”
Akito breathes out with a laugh, gently resting his hands against Toya’s shoulders. “Hold onto the chains, yeah? You can lean back into me. Use your legs for momentum forward.”
It comes out short and frantic, no thought behind the words; “what if I fall?—“
“Nope, won’t let you.” He gently pulls the chains, along with Toya, back, just enough that his feet lift off the ground. Toya’s breath hitches, shoulders tense as he swings back to place. “That’s okay?”
“Keep going.” Toya exhales finally, kicking his feet slightly. “High as you can.”
The shuffling stops for a moment as even Toya processes his own words, then continues anxiously kicking at the rocks on the playground’s surface. “I trust you,” he whispers. I trust you with my whole life, Akito.
There’s a content hum. Toya can’t tell if that last comment was said out loud or not.
Akito pulls the swing back once more, pushing Toya forward. Higher, then higher, then there’s a subtle shriek when gravity forces him down and the swing rocks.
Toya laughs.
It’s breathless, taken away by the wind as it bites at his night-chilled face. His hands stay tightly gripped around the chains, but he lets himself rock with the motion.
Warmth blooms in his chest, the rising feeling of fun. He doesn't even realize when Akito isn’t pushing him anymore. It’s different.
It’s different. He’s free.
He feels a little dizzy—but it’s the good kind; the kind that makes his heart race faster, makes his breath come just a little bit easier.
“Higher!” He cheers, laughing as he swings his legs for momentum, the touch of Akito’s hands lingering against his back.
After a couple more moments, his feet drag against the ground, panting heavily—his face is painted with a smile. “That was…”
“Fun, right? Have you seriously never been on a swing before?”
“...I haven’t no,” he rocks back and forth, swinging slightly. “Playgrounds were never an option for me.” He stands up, legs shaky as he brushes off his pants.
Akito darts to the rest of the playground, climbing up the platforms and pulling himself on the monkey bars. “Y’know,” he starts, hooking his legs around the bars, stabilized by his feet—hanging upside down. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that since Rad Blast.”
“Like what?” He turns around, hand resting in his hair.
“Light, and free.”
“Well, you can’t really say that,” he shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking at the gravel as he makes his way towards his partner. “Rad Blast was only a couple months ago.”
“I can say it whenever because I adore your laugh.” Akito makes grabby-hands at his partner, inviting him to come closer. “C’mereeeee.”
Toya knocks his forehead against Akito’s, ruffling his hair falling towards the ground. “You’re so cute.”
“Says you.” He swings slightly forward, cupping Toya’s face. “Mm, perfect height for me to kiss while upside down.” Toya’s face lights up, and Akito doesn’t hesitate—he tilts his head, his warm fingers against his partner’s chilled cheeks.
He pulls in, his lips just as warm as his fingers to Toya. They pull back for a breath, a misty cloud of cold vapor fogging up their view as they breathe.
“You’re warm,” Toya whispers, hands reaching towards Akito’s neck. “Warm me up.”
“Thought I did already?” He swings forward to give his partner another peck on the lips, giggling to himself. He pulls himself back up, unhooking his legs from the bar and letting his feet hit the ground. He hums, “getting tired?”
There’s a soft pause, then a yawn; “maybe a lil’...”
“Let’s get you home then—”
“No.”
“Huh?”
“I,” Toya breathes in, cold air tickling the back of his throat. The wind picks up his words as he speaks, leaving him only with a small, almost hesitant, “I want to stay longer.”
Akito doesn’t look taken aback. All he does is shake his head with a gentle laugh, swinging around a bar to pull himself onto a platform. “Then let’s get comfy.”
He holds out a hand, which Toya takes gratefully. He steps up the stairs on the opposite side of where the bar rests firmly dug into the ground, following Akito to the playground’s tower.
A purple roof casts long shadows on the floor from the moonlight, casting the picture of two musicians curled up together against the fence, slowly dozing off as soon as they sat down.
The moon smiles.
—
Toya dreams of his home.
Home—it was home for most of his life. Home was the smell of coffee, and the bitter taste of unsweetened chocolate milk, (“no, Toya, coffee isn’t for you, I’m sorry. Maybe when you’re older.”)
Home was velvet lined violin cases and ivory tile; silk piano covers without a speck of dust and lined with gold stitching.
Home is standing at the edge of the top of the stairs—the only height he had to worry about; not swings, not playground towers, not balconies—bow in hand, waiting patiently for his father to meet him in the practice room.
While his father is yelling on the phone that it was a mistake that Toya didn’t win the last competition.
The words “do it again” feel engraved into the walls. Into his mind. The words “not good enough” leak from the ceiling like the single droplet of water that has been slowly flooding the upstairs bathroom. (And he feels it, everyday.)
The words were the first time Toya realizes this home was only a house.
—
2:04am: A girl's voice blares through the phone. “Akito fucking Shinonome! Where are you right now!? I know you ate the last cheesecake slice and you’re not in your room so I can’t yell at you for it.”
2:15am: “Oooh, I see. You’re probably out with Toya—buy some more cheesecake on the way home, yeah?” There’s a couple other voices, muffled through a Nightcord call—one says a short are you still there, Ena? as the voice finished; “maple flavoured. Thank you~!”
2:17am: “...Hold on, did you get fucking Toya Aoyagi to sneak out?”
—
Akito wakes up with five missed calls, three voicemails, and a sore back. He stretches out with a yawn, bones and joints cracking melodically.
He pokes gently at his partner's dozing figure, “hey, Toya,” he whispers, “y’awake?”
“Hm…?” Toya grumbles, shifting in his place. He snuggles closer to Akito, hands slightly gripping onto his jacket.
“We’re literally in a playground tower. Let’s go home, yeah?” He pushes himself to his feet, hand against the wall for balance. Toya barely moves.
But he doesn’t want to go back to sleep. He doesn’t want to dream about home anymore. Because his home is right in front of him.
“You can stay at my place for the day. Hard to sneak you back in.”
Toya stares with puppy dog eyes. “Please?”
Akito wraps an arm around his partner’s waist, “yup, c’mon, up you go.” He lifts Toya to his feet, careful that he wouldn’t stand all the way up and hit his head on the ceiling.
It’s a kids playground—for kids under 5’0 probably. Not 5’10.
They—or, Akito, and a sleepy Toya who isn’t paying attention, so maybe just Akito—hop down the stairs of the playground, the gravel crunching beneath their shoes.
The sunrise peaks through the surrounding trees, the air still chilly and biting at their faces. Distant traffic whirls through the neighborhood close by.
Toya rubs his eyes, blinking, seemingly a bit more awake. “Can we stop somewhere to eat first…?”
“...Yeah, how about a cheesecake shop? Gotta pick something up.”
“Yay.”