[ it's not the first time they've held hands, as dance is an intimate thing.
nazuna's always been close to shu. he's been lifted by him, danced beautiful, romantic love songs across the wood floor of his familiar studio, been just a hair's breadth apart when people were watching. when nazuna danced with shu, it always felt like no one was there. his whole world--good days, bad days, big audiences, small audiences--would just narrow down to shu, to the music in his ears and the connection of their bodies. their chemistry had been staggering, and then--
it stopped.
three years, and it was gone, and nazuna thought maybe, just maybe he'd get over shu. the world didn't stop moving just because nazuna fell out of step, and as his manager bore down on him and he counted down the days until someone broke the lock on his birdcage, he'd still let his mind wander to shu when he was home alone at night, hugging his pillow and wondering what would have happened if maybe, they'd run away together.
life was supposed to keep moving. nazuna thought he'd never see him again, and just when shu started to become something written into his memories, he opened the door to his studio, and he came back to life again, the first breath before a measure, the curtains lifting on a stage. looking at shu gave him the same, anticipatory feeling, the adrenaline pumping through his veins and turning in to butterflies.
if shu's paying close attention--which he surely is--he may notice that nazuna starts to turn pink the minute their hands touch. his breath catches too, just a tiny thing, and he glances down at their joined hands. his fingers have always looked small in shu's, like (a doll's) a child's, but it feels like a perfect fit. he squeezes, subconsciously, the moment they interlace, and ends up leaning just a little forward.
he could kiss him. he wants to kiss him.
he's always wanted to kiss him.
nazuna chooses his words carefully. it's hard to talk around the butterflies in his throat, but he exhales slowly, and makes every word he says purposeful, without a stutter. ] Thank you for letting me in.
[ that has nothing to do with the apartment. it has everything to do with the way shu's back--and more so, that he's let nazuna come back home. ]
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nazuna's always been close to shu. he's been lifted by him, danced beautiful, romantic love songs across the wood floor of his familiar studio, been just a hair's breadth apart when people were watching. when nazuna danced with shu, it always felt like no one was there. his whole world--good days, bad days, big audiences, small audiences--would just narrow down to shu, to the music in his ears and the connection of their bodies. their chemistry had been staggering, and then--
it stopped.
three years, and it was gone, and nazuna thought maybe, just maybe he'd get over shu. the world didn't stop moving just because nazuna fell out of step, and as his manager bore down on him and he counted down the days until someone broke the lock on his birdcage, he'd still let his mind wander to shu when he was home alone at night, hugging his pillow and wondering what would have happened if maybe, they'd run away together.
life was supposed to keep moving. nazuna thought he'd never see him again, and just when shu started to become something written into his memories, he opened the door to his studio, and he came back to life again, the first breath before a measure, the curtains lifting on a stage. looking at shu gave him the same, anticipatory feeling, the adrenaline pumping through his veins and turning in to butterflies.
if shu's paying close attention--which he surely is--he may notice that nazuna starts to turn pink the minute their hands touch. his breath catches too, just a tiny thing, and he glances down at their joined hands. his fingers have always looked small in shu's, like (a doll's) a child's, but it feels like a perfect fit. he squeezes, subconsciously, the moment they interlace, and ends up leaning just a little forward.
he could kiss him. he wants to kiss him.
he's always wanted to kiss him.
nazuna chooses his words carefully. it's hard to talk around the butterflies in his throat, but he exhales slowly, and makes every word he says purposeful, without a stutter. ] Thank you for letting me in.
[ that has nothing to do with the apartment. it has everything to do with the way shu's back--and more so, that he's let nazuna come back home. ]