Title: Pretty Darling, Do Not Cry
Disclaimer: Uh. I made this up. I don't own Shirota or Yanagi? (This is an awkward disclaimer.) The title's from Golden Slumbers, by the Beatles, too.
Warnings: Uhh... fic about actual people. Outside of that, a bit of angst, BL.
Author's note: SLIPPERY SLOPE TO HELL. Stay away from jazz and liquor kiddies. By the way, this is supposed to take place at the beginning of rehearsals for Imperial Match.
It's the end of the first real day of rehearsals, after all the planning meetings and whatnot, and Yanagi almost doesn't last until they're dismissed. Somehow, some way, he pulls through, but as soon as rehearsal is over, he excuses himself and walks briskly (as well as he can; he's still a little awkward, a little stiff) to the nearest bathroom. Slumping against the wall, finally away from worrying, prying eyes, he can't help it, he breaks down in tears. All the frustration, the anger, the sadness, it all forces its way out, and he slides to the floor, hitting the ground a little harder than intended because he's still, still not entirely in control of his own body. Letting out a soft moan of anguish, he presses his palms over his eyes, embarrassed of himself for being this upset and yet unable to control the steady stream of tears now rolling down his face.
It's not that he's given up, planning on giving up, because he won't, not ever. He promised himself that he would come back and do the part, and here he is, and he's going to do it, he's going to do it, goddamnit, and he's going to do his absolute best. But despite all the positive thoughts in the world, he can't help it that his absolute best is far now from what it used to be, and that watching, knowing that he could have done that two years ago is outstandingly painful, especially when he knows everyone's thinking the same thing. And it's just not fair, it's not fair. The injustice of it all is insufferable, heavy and thick like humidity, making it hard to breath as he follows, slowly, ever so slowly, as he's taught his parts. It practically hurts to take such baby steps, and it only burns his throat all the more because he knows he needs it. And he's holding everyone back with his inability, and he knows he's the object of everyone's pity, and sometimes, it's just too much, it's too much to take.
He cries to himself for a little while, but he knows he has to pull it together, to get back out there, pack up, go home; people are probably waiting for him and causing people to worry is the last thing he wants. Still, he can't seem to get himself under control; no matter how positively he thinks, the feeling of frustration, the terrible injustice of it all is too overpowering, and he descends back into tears again just when he's possibly on the verge of regaining control. He's a right mess now, and he's thinking he's going to have to call En-yan when he gets home and cry to him when there's a knock on the door.
In an attempt at quickness, he fumbles with his body, stumbling over himself as he grasps at the wall in order to stand. "S-sorry--" he calls, wiping at his face desperately, trying to make himself at least vaguely presentable. "I'll be out in a moment--"
"It's me." The voice startles Yanagi into momentary silence, and he licks his lips, trying to figure out what to say as Shirota continues. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, no worries," Yanagi hurries to reply, but his voice cracks as he does, giving him away. Still, he sniffs, wiping his cheeks dry with the backs of his hands even though he knows his eyes must be red. "Really, I'll be out in a sec."
There is a silence, but it feels hesitant, and Yanagi can almost see Shirota's pensive expression on the other side of the door. Still, he takes this opportunity to check himself once in the mirror before opening the door and doing his best to smile convincingly up at Shirota. Shirota's expression isn't quite what he pictured; it's pensive, but there's something else, as well, something in his eyes, and Yanagi almost is tempted to stare until he can figure it out. Shirota's very handsome, after all, and Yanagi could stare at him for months at a time, honestly, without getting bored. Still, he tears his eyes away. "I'm gonna go pack up."
He begins to turn, but before he can get all of the way around, he feels a firm hand on his shoulder and he starts slightly. Shirota pulls back quickly, as if he's afraid he's hurt Yanagi somehow, and Yanagi wishes he hadn't reacted quite so strongly. Turning back, he catches Shirota's eyes again, inquisitively but silently.
If he didn't know better, Yanagi might have thought Shirota was blushing, and he's driven to speak. "Yuu-yan?"
Shirota swallows, as if he's lost his train of thought or something of the like, and Yanagi is about to ask if something's wrong when he speaks again, abruptly. "...You're doing really well. Really. You've come such a long way, so... don't cry." He really is blushing, Yanagi realizes with some degree of disbelief, just the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks.
He's just about to respond that he's fine, really, everything's fine, when Shirota seems to judge that he's not going to respond, because, in the awkward, sudden movement of a split-second decision, he leans in and kisses Yanagi, right on the lips.
Yanagi stares in disbelief as he draws back, looking obviously flustered now. He avoids Yanagi's eyes for a moment, shifting his weight before beginning to turn. "Sorry-- I'll let you get packed up now--"
But Yanagi's not going to stand for that, not when this is what he's been wanting for weeks now, not when this is possibly the only thing that can make him feel better, and a real grin forms on his lips, despite the slight jerkiness of his movement as he lurches forward slightly and grabs Shirota by the arm. Standing on his toes, he presses a kiss to Shirota's cheek. "I promise, Shirotan, I won't cry anymore."
Shirota looks back at him in near-disbelief for a moment before smiling back and taking Yanagi's hand in his own. "Good."
And as they walk, hand in hand, back to the dressing room, where Shirota waits patiently for him to pack up his things, Yanagi can't, no matter how hard he tries, get the stupid smile off of his face. And as Shirota kisses him goodnight discretely before putting him on the subway home, Yanagi knows that he'll be keeping his promise.