[Fic] Love
Title: Love
Author: analine
Pairing: TutixNagayan
Warnings: None, worksafe.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,135
Summary: Nagayan feels something more than support from the people around him sometimes.
Notes: So the most recent Bleach Live opens with the cast in a line across the stage, on their knees, formal Japanese style, bowing deeply. Tuti and Nagayan are next to each other during this opening scene, and so watching them night after night just got me thinking about what that would feel like, being next to someone you were close to on stage like that, etc. This is basically just my thoughts about what went on backstage before and after that, and those few moments on stage before the curtain rises. I had a really hard time with the title too, so hopefully it's not too misleading. ^_~ Because this really isn't about Tuti and Nagayan so much as just the feeling of being supported by everyone around you, including the person you love... Or something. Anyway. It's Nagayan POV, and I hope you enjoy it. ^_^
(Also, many thanks to lizstarsky for her assistance. *nod*)
Comments are always greatly appreciated. ^_^
It’s warmer than usual in the dressing room tonight, and the stuffiness is making his throat scratchy, but Takashi ignores this for the time being. There are five shows left, and really, he refuses to entertain the thought that he might be getting sick. Instead, he clears his throat dismissively and pops another lozenge into his mouth. He swallows, and then looks up at his reflection in the mirror and frowns a little at the shadows under his eyes. After a moment he dabs at his face, and the triangle of crème makes a satisfying smudge across his skin as the imperfections vanish.
He glances up at the clock in the corner of the room a few minutes later. He was earlier than usual today, arriving at the theatre with almost an hour to spare, and even now, the room is empty except for Osamu-chan, who’s been so deeply involved in his phone conversation across the room that Takashi wonders if his friend has even noticed that he isn’t the only one here.
The minutes pass, and before he realizes it, he’s finished. The dark circles are gone from his face, and instead his skin is glistening, pale, and very much the picture of a boy-genius, despite the notable age difference between himself and his character.
The volume of chatter in the room quickly rises over the next ten minutes, as his fellow cast members filter into the room. He’s not surprised by the late arrivals though. He’s actually gotten used to spending more time than most people preparing for these shows. Because the truth is - he likes it. He enjoys being in costume, and he doesn’t mind spending the last hour or two before the show feeling the weight of his shinigami robes as they brush against his ankles.
It’s different during the summer shows, when the heat forces everyone to get dressed at the last possible second, but now, he finds that the extra time in costume helps him connect with his character in some strange way. He glances at himself in the mirror again, and this time the corners of his eyes pull forward into a frown that he’s nearly perfected, and that he knows he’ll be wearing for most of the remainder of the night.
A slight poke against his ribs a moment later makes him flinch, and he finds himself smiling a little, despite himself.
“Enjoying the view?” Tuti says sarcastically, but he’s clearly amused. “Do you really think no one notices you doing that?”
“Shut up, Tuti,” Takashi tells him, laughing, as the other man scoots into the chair next to him.
Tuti drops his bag to the floor, and shrugs out of his coat, not seeming to be in any particular hurry, despite the fact that he’s probably just about the last member of the cast to arrive.
The change in Takashi’s mood comes in a series of bright flashes, the longer the other man is near him. They fall into easy conversation, and Takashi observes a very different pre-show ritual than his own as they talk. Once Tuti gets started, he’s organized, methodical, and quick. He doesn’t dwell on any one thing, and barely pauses to check his reflection in the mirror as he prepares his face for the final touches of the professional make-up artists.
Instead, Tuti watches Takashi as he goes about his preparations. Takashi almost visibly warms to the attention, and his smile makes Tuti’s smile grow, which in turn makes Takashi’s smile grow again.
Takashi glances at their reflection in the mirror briefly, before turning his attention to his feet, feeling his face warm a little.
“You know we’re being really obvious right now, right?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“I’m just saying…”
Tuti laughs. “Want to go back to the ten feet rule?”
“No way!” He slaps the other man’s arm, frowning. “That was torture! Don’t even joke about that.”
“It was your idea!”
“I never thought you would agree.”
Tuti gasps. “Now the truth comes out!”
Takashi lowers his eyes. “Anyway. I didn’t mean that I wanted anything to change. It was just an observation. Okay?”
“Okay.” Tuti smiles warmly before he glances up at the clock. “Shall we?”
Takashi grins one last time before allowing the frown to return in full force. Then he crosses his arms across his chest and nods authoritatively. He pretends not to notice the creepy smirk he receives in return, as the two actors make their way towards the hallway for a final costume and make-up check.
**
Takashi can hear the chatter of the crowd as it filters past the edge of the stage, punctuated here and there by a cheer, as apparently several people get caught up in the anticipation and excitement. The thump of the pre-show music starts to get louder; the bass vibrates up from the stage beneath him, humming through his knees, and he shivers.
He really, really loves this energy, and he knows that he honestly wouldn’t trade this thrill for anything.
Takashi swallows, clears his throat quietly, and swallows again. He reaches into the folds of his robes, and as he’s unwrapping the small paper, he feels the body next to him shift a little.
“Mmm…?” He asks as he swallows again, and this time it’s a little less uncomfortable, as the coolness of the lozenge drifts down his throat.
“You’re sniffling.”
“I am not.” And then of course, he sniffles.
Tuti laughs.
“I’m okay, just a little congested.”
“You’re sure?”
There’s genuine concern in the voice, and Takashi finds that he’s touched. Their attention is understandably divided here, through rushed rehearsals and performances that seem to be over before they start, and so it’s nice, feeling Tuti focus on him, even briefly like this. He feels close to him now, and the realization makes him swallow again past the small lump in his throat. He scrunches up his nose a little and sniffles again.
“Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll go to bed early tonight. I’ll be fine.”
Their exchange is hushed, and since their heads are bowed so closely together, Takashi is sure no one else can hear them.
“Does that mean…?” Tuti sounds disappointed now, and Takashi smiles a little.
“Of course you can still come over.”
He hears a muffled laugh from the man next to him.
“I’m going to bed early though, no arguments.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
And now the music beyond the curtain stops.
Across the stage, the line of actors shift into place one last time; robes brush against the floor, muted conversations end, and a general hush falls over the row of kneeling shinigami. The roar from the audience indicates that the house lights have been brought down.
Takashi holds his breath a little as another shiver passes down his back, and the curtain rises in front of him. He feels the warmth of the stage lights against his back and he blinks several times, trying to catch a glimpse of the audience through the small gap between his head and the floor of the stage. Tuti’s warmth is there next to him too, and he closes his eyes briefly. This feeling strikes him at the oddest times, but it’s always there. To be able to do this - especially with Tuti at his side - is a really wonderful thing.
**
The performance itself is over in what feels like an instant, and suddenly Takashi finds himself back in the dressing room, his body pulsing with energy despite the fact that his head feels like it might explode at any moment.
He smiles as he pulls off his wig though. It was really fun tonight. He’s happy.
He’s tired too though, he realizes as he sinks into his chair. Really tired. He’s sure he won’t have any problem falling asleep immediately tonight. Even with the distraction of having Tuti pressed against him, taking up more than half the space in his small bed.
The thought brings another smile to his face, and as he looks up, Tuti enters the room, seemingly on cue. The other man’s wide smile reaches across the room easily, and Takashi forces himself to look away when he realizes he’s staring. Tatsuya is right at Tuti’s heels, as usual, and his smile is almost as impressive.
Several brief bursts of laughter indicate that Tuti still hasn’t finished berating their show’s star for his inability to string words together at the end of the show though. Takashi listens to their conversation as he undresses. It’s funny, hearing Tatsuya attempt to defend himself against Tuti’s perfect imitation of a stuttering, red-faced Ichigo.
Because he can’t help it, as soon as Tuti is close enough, Takashi reaches out a hand and grabs a handful of fabric, giving it a swift tug. “As if you could do any better, Tuti, geez…”
He smiles up at Tatsuya. “Forgive him, he’s…” Takashi puts on his frown again, because it seems appropriate. “An idiot,” he finishes.
Tuti gasps. “Takashi! You meant it?!”
Takashi laughs, not at all surprised that Tuti caught his reference to the script. He feels a little bad about it sometimes, but part of him really enjoys being forced to call his boyfriend an idiot each night in front of a roaring crowd. There’s something to be said for playing rivals after all, he figures. It makes it pretty easy to pass off jokes like this now too. He grins.
“Tatsuya wasn’t even that bad tonight,” Takashi continues, and then glances at the younger actor. “He won’t be able to open his mouth at all tomorrow if you keep this up though.”
Tatsuya flushes. “You guys are terrible.”
“Sorry,” Takashi manages between laughs that he shares with Tuti, and which he’s sure serve to strengthen their reputation as two of the snarkiest members of the cast. “You really were fine tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Tatsuya mutters, smiling, as he makes his way over to his things.
Tuti focuses on Takashi now, pressing a hand against his shoulder that remains there for a second or two.
“How’s your throat?”
“Not any worse, so I think that’s a good sign?” Takashi stands, and gestures for the hanger on the floor next to Tuti’s foot. “I just need to get some sleep.”
The other man nods, and hands the hanger over before focusing on removing his own robes.
“So you’re heading straight home?” Tuti asks as he bends over.
“More or less…” Takashi offers, well aware of the fact that Tuti knows his routine by now.
Tuti laughs. “You just can’t resist, can you?”
“Nope!”
Takashi grins at Tuti, and then nods to his manager, who has been waiting patiently in the doorway, just out of the way of the other actors. Tamaoki-san would be by his side again tonight, as Takashi greeted the fans, a routine they’d established a while ago. Takashi knows that not many other managers in this business would even consider agreeing to something like this, let alone insisting upon it, as was the case with Tamaoki.
“If you’re not there in 45 minutes, I can’t promise I won’t already be asleep,” Takashi says to Tuti as he passes, in a soft voice.
He then makes a quick exit from the dressing room, stepping over bags and costumes along the way, and manages to emerge a moment later into the now-empty hallway.
He listens, interested, as he falls into step with his manager, who has already started sharing his impressions of the last half of Takashi’s performance. Takashi nods appropriately and laughs at some of the older man’s observations. The conversation is lighthearted though; any problems or concerns would be discussed later, during the car ride home.
“How did you feel about tonight?” he’s asked after a moment.
This is one thing he really appreciates about Tamaoki-san. Takashi never realized how much he valued being asked his opinion until he found out that most of the time, management was pretty impersonal and disinterested as far as things like this went.
He really is lucky, in so many ways; he knows this, and is reminded of it all the time, it seems. It’s more than support that he feels right now too, from everyone around him. He’s truly thankful, he realizes, for everything.
“Great,” he answers honestly, feeling his face glow a little. “Everything felt great.”
Tamaoki nods, and they continue down the hallway, still talking, mostly about the show. Tamaoki gives him a sideways glance as Takashi tries to sneak a peek into one of the open bags of gifts the other man is holding at his side, and Takashi laughs when he realizes he’s been caught.
He knows that it will be cold outside, colder than last night, probably, but somehow Takashi has a feeling that tonight he won’t even notice.
***
Author: analine
Pairing: TutixNagayan
Warnings: None, worksafe.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,135
Summary: Nagayan feels something more than support from the people around him sometimes.
Notes: So the most recent Bleach Live opens with the cast in a line across the stage, on their knees, formal Japanese style, bowing deeply. Tuti and Nagayan are next to each other during this opening scene, and so watching them night after night just got me thinking about what that would feel like, being next to someone you were close to on stage like that, etc. This is basically just my thoughts about what went on backstage before and after that, and those few moments on stage before the curtain rises. I had a really hard time with the title too, so hopefully it's not too misleading. ^_~ Because this really isn't about Tuti and Nagayan so much as just the feeling of being supported by everyone around you, including the person you love... Or something. Anyway. It's Nagayan POV, and I hope you enjoy it. ^_^
(Also, many thanks to lizstarsky for her assistance. *nod*)
Comments are always greatly appreciated. ^_^
It’s warmer than usual in the dressing room tonight, and the stuffiness is making his throat scratchy, but Takashi ignores this for the time being. There are five shows left, and really, he refuses to entertain the thought that he might be getting sick. Instead, he clears his throat dismissively and pops another lozenge into his mouth. He swallows, and then looks up at his reflection in the mirror and frowns a little at the shadows under his eyes. After a moment he dabs at his face, and the triangle of crème makes a satisfying smudge across his skin as the imperfections vanish.
He glances up at the clock in the corner of the room a few minutes later. He was earlier than usual today, arriving at the theatre with almost an hour to spare, and even now, the room is empty except for Osamu-chan, who’s been so deeply involved in his phone conversation across the room that Takashi wonders if his friend has even noticed that he isn’t the only one here.
The minutes pass, and before he realizes it, he’s finished. The dark circles are gone from his face, and instead his skin is glistening, pale, and very much the picture of a boy-genius, despite the notable age difference between himself and his character.
The volume of chatter in the room quickly rises over the next ten minutes, as his fellow cast members filter into the room. He’s not surprised by the late arrivals though. He’s actually gotten used to spending more time than most people preparing for these shows. Because the truth is - he likes it. He enjoys being in costume, and he doesn’t mind spending the last hour or two before the show feeling the weight of his shinigami robes as they brush against his ankles.
It’s different during the summer shows, when the heat forces everyone to get dressed at the last possible second, but now, he finds that the extra time in costume helps him connect with his character in some strange way. He glances at himself in the mirror again, and this time the corners of his eyes pull forward into a frown that he’s nearly perfected, and that he knows he’ll be wearing for most of the remainder of the night.
A slight poke against his ribs a moment later makes him flinch, and he finds himself smiling a little, despite himself.
“Enjoying the view?” Tuti says sarcastically, but he’s clearly amused. “Do you really think no one notices you doing that?”
“Shut up, Tuti,” Takashi tells him, laughing, as the other man scoots into the chair next to him.
Tuti drops his bag to the floor, and shrugs out of his coat, not seeming to be in any particular hurry, despite the fact that he’s probably just about the last member of the cast to arrive.
The change in Takashi’s mood comes in a series of bright flashes, the longer the other man is near him. They fall into easy conversation, and Takashi observes a very different pre-show ritual than his own as they talk. Once Tuti gets started, he’s organized, methodical, and quick. He doesn’t dwell on any one thing, and barely pauses to check his reflection in the mirror as he prepares his face for the final touches of the professional make-up artists.
Instead, Tuti watches Takashi as he goes about his preparations. Takashi almost visibly warms to the attention, and his smile makes Tuti’s smile grow, which in turn makes Takashi’s smile grow again.
Takashi glances at their reflection in the mirror briefly, before turning his attention to his feet, feeling his face warm a little.
“You know we’re being really obvious right now, right?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“I’m just saying…”
Tuti laughs. “Want to go back to the ten feet rule?”
“No way!” He slaps the other man’s arm, frowning. “That was torture! Don’t even joke about that.”
“It was your idea!”
“I never thought you would agree.”
Tuti gasps. “Now the truth comes out!”
Takashi lowers his eyes. “Anyway. I didn’t mean that I wanted anything to change. It was just an observation. Okay?”
“Okay.” Tuti smiles warmly before he glances up at the clock. “Shall we?”
Takashi grins one last time before allowing the frown to return in full force. Then he crosses his arms across his chest and nods authoritatively. He pretends not to notice the creepy smirk he receives in return, as the two actors make their way towards the hallway for a final costume and make-up check.
**
Takashi can hear the chatter of the crowd as it filters past the edge of the stage, punctuated here and there by a cheer, as apparently several people get caught up in the anticipation and excitement. The thump of the pre-show music starts to get louder; the bass vibrates up from the stage beneath him, humming through his knees, and he shivers.
He really, really loves this energy, and he knows that he honestly wouldn’t trade this thrill for anything.
Takashi swallows, clears his throat quietly, and swallows again. He reaches into the folds of his robes, and as he’s unwrapping the small paper, he feels the body next to him shift a little.
“Mmm…?” He asks as he swallows again, and this time it’s a little less uncomfortable, as the coolness of the lozenge drifts down his throat.
“You’re sniffling.”
“I am not.” And then of course, he sniffles.
Tuti laughs.
“I’m okay, just a little congested.”
“You’re sure?”
There’s genuine concern in the voice, and Takashi finds that he’s touched. Their attention is understandably divided here, through rushed rehearsals and performances that seem to be over before they start, and so it’s nice, feeling Tuti focus on him, even briefly like this. He feels close to him now, and the realization makes him swallow again past the small lump in his throat. He scrunches up his nose a little and sniffles again.
“Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll go to bed early tonight. I’ll be fine.”
Their exchange is hushed, and since their heads are bowed so closely together, Takashi is sure no one else can hear them.
“Does that mean…?” Tuti sounds disappointed now, and Takashi smiles a little.
“Of course you can still come over.”
He hears a muffled laugh from the man next to him.
“I’m going to bed early though, no arguments.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
And now the music beyond the curtain stops.
Across the stage, the line of actors shift into place one last time; robes brush against the floor, muted conversations end, and a general hush falls over the row of kneeling shinigami. The roar from the audience indicates that the house lights have been brought down.
Takashi holds his breath a little as another shiver passes down his back, and the curtain rises in front of him. He feels the warmth of the stage lights against his back and he blinks several times, trying to catch a glimpse of the audience through the small gap between his head and the floor of the stage. Tuti’s warmth is there next to him too, and he closes his eyes briefly. This feeling strikes him at the oddest times, but it’s always there. To be able to do this - especially with Tuti at his side - is a really wonderful thing.
**
The performance itself is over in what feels like an instant, and suddenly Takashi finds himself back in the dressing room, his body pulsing with energy despite the fact that his head feels like it might explode at any moment.
He smiles as he pulls off his wig though. It was really fun tonight. He’s happy.
He’s tired too though, he realizes as he sinks into his chair. Really tired. He’s sure he won’t have any problem falling asleep immediately tonight. Even with the distraction of having Tuti pressed against him, taking up more than half the space in his small bed.
The thought brings another smile to his face, and as he looks up, Tuti enters the room, seemingly on cue. The other man’s wide smile reaches across the room easily, and Takashi forces himself to look away when he realizes he’s staring. Tatsuya is right at Tuti’s heels, as usual, and his smile is almost as impressive.
Several brief bursts of laughter indicate that Tuti still hasn’t finished berating their show’s star for his inability to string words together at the end of the show though. Takashi listens to their conversation as he undresses. It’s funny, hearing Tatsuya attempt to defend himself against Tuti’s perfect imitation of a stuttering, red-faced Ichigo.
Because he can’t help it, as soon as Tuti is close enough, Takashi reaches out a hand and grabs a handful of fabric, giving it a swift tug. “As if you could do any better, Tuti, geez…”
He smiles up at Tatsuya. “Forgive him, he’s…” Takashi puts on his frown again, because it seems appropriate. “An idiot,” he finishes.
Tuti gasps. “Takashi! You meant it?!”
Takashi laughs, not at all surprised that Tuti caught his reference to the script. He feels a little bad about it sometimes, but part of him really enjoys being forced to call his boyfriend an idiot each night in front of a roaring crowd. There’s something to be said for playing rivals after all, he figures. It makes it pretty easy to pass off jokes like this now too. He grins.
“Tatsuya wasn’t even that bad tonight,” Takashi continues, and then glances at the younger actor. “He won’t be able to open his mouth at all tomorrow if you keep this up though.”
Tatsuya flushes. “You guys are terrible.”
“Sorry,” Takashi manages between laughs that he shares with Tuti, and which he’s sure serve to strengthen their reputation as two of the snarkiest members of the cast. “You really were fine tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Tatsuya mutters, smiling, as he makes his way over to his things.
Tuti focuses on Takashi now, pressing a hand against his shoulder that remains there for a second or two.
“How’s your throat?”
“Not any worse, so I think that’s a good sign?” Takashi stands, and gestures for the hanger on the floor next to Tuti’s foot. “I just need to get some sleep.”
The other man nods, and hands the hanger over before focusing on removing his own robes.
“So you’re heading straight home?” Tuti asks as he bends over.
“More or less…” Takashi offers, well aware of the fact that Tuti knows his routine by now.
Tuti laughs. “You just can’t resist, can you?”
“Nope!”
Takashi grins at Tuti, and then nods to his manager, who has been waiting patiently in the doorway, just out of the way of the other actors. Tamaoki-san would be by his side again tonight, as Takashi greeted the fans, a routine they’d established a while ago. Takashi knows that not many other managers in this business would even consider agreeing to something like this, let alone insisting upon it, as was the case with Tamaoki.
“If you’re not there in 45 minutes, I can’t promise I won’t already be asleep,” Takashi says to Tuti as he passes, in a soft voice.
He then makes a quick exit from the dressing room, stepping over bags and costumes along the way, and manages to emerge a moment later into the now-empty hallway.
He listens, interested, as he falls into step with his manager, who has already started sharing his impressions of the last half of Takashi’s performance. Takashi nods appropriately and laughs at some of the older man’s observations. The conversation is lighthearted though; any problems or concerns would be discussed later, during the car ride home.
“How did you feel about tonight?” he’s asked after a moment.
This is one thing he really appreciates about Tamaoki-san. Takashi never realized how much he valued being asked his opinion until he found out that most of the time, management was pretty impersonal and disinterested as far as things like this went.
He really is lucky, in so many ways; he knows this, and is reminded of it all the time, it seems. It’s more than support that he feels right now too, from everyone around him. He’s truly thankful, he realizes, for everything.
“Great,” he answers honestly, feeling his face glow a little. “Everything felt great.”
Tamaoki nods, and they continue down the hallway, still talking, mostly about the show. Tamaoki gives him a sideways glance as Takashi tries to sneak a peek into one of the open bags of gifts the other man is holding at his side, and Takashi laughs when he realizes he’s been caught.
He knows that it will be cold outside, colder than last night, probably, but somehow Takashi has a feeling that tonight he won’t even notice.
***