Chapter Text
Everybody knows Mika loves sweets. Everybody also knows he had to smuggle them like some sort of drug to avoid being scolded by Shu. Now that Shu is off in France, though, he noticeably takes all kinds of sweets with him wherever he goes. This ranges from simple candies to cinnamon buns, it seems he can materialize anything sweet from thin air. He remembers Shu’s home smelling faintly birch and the dancing embers of a quaint campfire, but now it’s plagued with a sickeningly sweet scent: the same sort of smell that clouds your senses in the candy store.
He holds dear to him the memory of that scent. It was a joyful day when he received that spare key, the excitement filled him more than any other feeling he’d ever felt before. It felt as if he finally understood Mitsuru. When that smell first hit his nostrils, it was exhilarating. It smelled like Shu; therefore, it was just about the best thing he’s ever smelled. Apart from the real Shu, of course.
Mika has only ever touched one thing that belonged to Shu in his room— their room —and it consists of the “ Pâtisserie ”-themed calendar. He later learned, after asking about it, that a Pâtisserie , in this context, is like a bakery in France. They specialize in sweets.
The border of the calendar is pink, and the paper is lined in gold. It reminds him a lot of Shu, which is the reason he touches it so often. If he doesn’t think too hard about it, the smooth surface of the pages feels like the elder’s tie, and if he doesn’t think at all about it, he can imagine that instead of the cold paper, he’s dragging his fingers along his skin instead. Each month is dedicated to a specific French pastry, and this month is August, dedicated to “ la chouquette .” Each day number is inside a print of one of those small, sugar-covered pastries, and he counts each of them every day. Sometimes, he’d even start drooling; those chouquettes look so good, it’s too bad they’re paper: Shu insists there are no good French bakeries nearby, either.
Tomorrow is the 21st chouquette. That means Shu comes to visit, and he can stop counting them over and over as if it somehow makes time go faster.
About this time every few months, he gouges himself in even more sweets. Arashi has observed that he does so when he’s feeling a particularly strong negative emotion, and in this case, it’s true. He feels guilty, because during this time, he never informs anyone of the day Shu intends to arrive. Of course, he’s aware that people like Wataru and Natsume know of his arrival date, and he asked them urgently to keep the news to themselves. Why? Because Mika is only greedy when it comes to two things: candy, and Shu Itsuki. If everyone knew he’d be back, they’d all want to take up his time.
He doesn’t mind sharing with just a few others— those people he’s close to —because they all tend to spend time together at once. Of course, Mika understands. He’s quite popular and mostly gets along with everyone, so of course he has a group of friends similar to the one Shu has. They rarely see him in this period of time.
With the mental toll of not really having his friends around, he tends to get tired quite early. Or, maybe it isn’t that, and he just wants the days to go by quicker. It might even be the physical toll; cleaning the home over and over every day gets tiring, but everything must be perfect upon Shu’s arrival. This balanced with getting his idol duties done only has him eating more sweets and less actually nutritious meals. When he and Shu lived together, he always cooked his meals to assure the best possible diet for an idol: for his doll. It’s been so long since he’s had a taste of it that he finds no satisfaction in eating anymore.
He remembers crossing off the 20 and the chouquette that surrounds it, but he doesn’t remember anything after. A bad dream, a good dream, he would never know. The boy finds himself uncaring as soon as he opens his eyes and that overwhelming scent of melted candy is replaced with the delicious, intoxicating smell off strawberries and whipped cream.
Jumping up from his bed, in no particular rush, he doesn’t bother getting dressed. Naru never minded when he would greet her in the morning with just his boxers on— he’d done it on accident, once, and that’s how he discovered that she doesn’t care. And so he proceeds out of the bedroom, walking with unknowing eyes into the kitchen. When he finishes rubbing those mismatched irises, he notices one crucial detail in assuming the one in his house is not Arashi . She always leaves her coat on the second stool under the island.
“‘s there?” He’s aware most of the sentence didn’t escape his mouth, and he’s also aware he didn’t sound threatening at all. What he wasn’t aware of was the tall, pink-haired puppeteer that works diligently over the stovetop, humming a cheerful song as he flips a pancake whilst simultaneously topping a complete stack with whipped cream, a strawberry, and some chocolate syrup.
“ Bonjour, choupinet .” His voice was like music. He didn’t even look up from the pan. “I assumed you’d be fast asleep and called Rei to retrieve me from the airport.” Shu continues to hum as Mika stands there in his grogginess trying to process what exactly is going on. He seems to notice through the reflection of the class cabinets above his workspace, and laughs quietly.
Instead of using his words, he lets his body speak for him, nearly falling over as he ran behind the counter and collapsed into the man’s arms. The smile on his face was brighter than the stars when all the lights were off. “I wanted to pick ya up so I could hold yer hand again.” His beam wilts into a pout.
The fingers stroking his hair move down to pat his back before retreating, Shu turning his body to face the stove again. “Be mindful, Kagehira. I don’t need to be treating your burns during my visit.” Mika immediately backs away, staring at him excitedly after backing up. He caught a glimpse of the smile that Shu quickly (but not quickly enough) removed. “I hope you’re hungry. I also hope you know I have connections who tell me all the things that you don’t, mon chou .”
Scuffing his heel against the kitchen tile, he huffs, crossing his arms. “‘s not the same unless it’s yer cookin’, Teach. I don’t want it if ‘s not.” Shu sighs, finishing the second stack of pancakes and topping it with maple syrup and butter. Mika smiles at the fact he’s most likely upset at his sweet tooth, but still considers that he likes his pancakes topped with objectively sweet things.
“I’m flattered that you find my cooking so exceptional, who wouldn’t, but your body can’t withstand these periods where you are eating. It stresses it out, and stress causes wrinkles,” he says, sliding the two plates to their respective places across the counter and moving to stand in front of Mika. He places a hand on the shorter man’s cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb. “We can’t have you getting wrinkles so young. As long as it’s preventable, even. You may pout when you’re old, chéri .”
Mika leans into the touch, stifling a whimper when the heat leaves his cheek. “Yer not sayin’ anythin’ mean about me, are ya? ‘s alright if you are, I’m just curious.” There’s silence for a moment before he feels a familiar heat envelop him, as well as the feeling of satin against his bare back. Shu had gently placed his jacket over his shoulders, a subtle reminder that he isn’t nearly clothed enough to be hugging or even speaking to Shu. “Ah… ‘m nearly naked. I should go an’ get dressed. Sorry, Teach.”
With another sigh, something he seems to do a lot around Mika, he sits down at the kitchen island and begins to cut a bite of his pancakes out. “Kagehira, I’ve seen you without anything on. I don’t mind that you’re only wearing your underwear, considering you’ve only just woken up.” Mika goes to say something, but Shu raises a finger. “However, I do plan on taking you somewhere. You should get dressed later, when I’m available to style you.”
The boy beams again, scooching his stool a bit closer to Shu before sitting and beginning to eat his breakfast, perhaps a bit too fast for Shu’s liking as he clicks his tongue at the eager boy devouring his plate. “Mmh,” with his mouth stuffed with food, his words were nowhere near coherent. “mn dus’ ecdited.”
Shu’s lips purse in a thin line. “Don’t speak with your mouth full, Kagehira. You should know better.” Although his tone was cold, Mika could tell there was a form of adoration behind his words. He’s always pleased when Mika is excited to be around him, unless they’re in public, then he’s more wary about it. Mika never minded that though, he understands fully that not everybody likes that kind of physical affection outside closed doors; he would always be the type to scoff at the couples that eat each other’s tongues in public. Not that they’d ever be indulging in one another’s mouth, anyway.
When they’re finally finished eating, Mika offers to clean the dishes while the other finds him something to wear, but Shu insists the dishes could wait because they have quite the day ahead of them. Shu never lets these things wait, and it makes him feel special. Though, he did request a moment alone with Mademoiselle, and the other happily obliged. He waits in their room for Shu to either enter or call him out.
While he waits, he steps into Shu’s walk-in closet he utilized completely before moving away that has since been taken over by Mika’s clothes. It still smells like birch and embers in there, and oftentimes when he’s upset or in need of comfort when Arashi is unavailable, he’ll go there (he’ll usually go there anyway, because the smell helps him calm down before bed). He drags his hands along the rows of clothes, stopping as he gets to the few jackets of Shu’s that remain in the space. Just from these pieces alone, it’s clear that Shu is much more fashionable than he is. Even with Arashi’s help, he could never compare to the sheer amount of artistry that is Shu’s wardrobe. He’s almost embarrassed to have him look at it and have him try to style something as elegant as his everyday outfits.
Almost out of what seems to be a habit, Shu opens the door not too long after without knocking. It is his room, and it is just Mika, but even so, he seemed disappointed in himself afterwards. The entranced individual, lost in his thoughts, didn’t notice it when the other entered the room. There was a moment of silence in the space; Shu simply stared at Mika while Mika stared at his coats. It made him feel quite warm. “You could wear one if you’d like. I left them here with the assumption you would.”
Mika doesn’t jump as one usually would upon being broken from their thoughts by such a powerful voice as Shu’s, instead, he just smiles and averts his gaze to the man in the doorway. “It would be rude of me to jus’ wear somethin’ of yours without askin’ first.” He mumbles, fingering the expensive fabric with a certain adoration. Shu opens his mouth to speak, but Mika had already predicted what he was going to say. “But you probably wouldn’ mind if asked ya, anyway.”
With a soft smile, he motions for Mika to come sit on the bed while he styles an outfit. He couldn’t help but notice the warm rose color spread delicately across his cheeks as he left the closet. As the fashion-minded individual searches through his many varieties of styles, Mika buries his face silently into the nape of Shu’s coat. It smells mostly of cologne, the expensive kind Shu liked to get; the ones that smell like endless gardenia fields, subtle tuberose, and lemon zest; he's sure, though, that the pancakes have something to do with the light scent of strawberry and sweet syrup that follow.
Above all, it smelled like Shu. He didn’t want to smell the cologne, as pleasant as it may be to his nose, he wanted to smell the intoxicating scent of Shu. It’ll always be the best thing that’s ever blessed his senses: he will always be the best thing that’s ever blessed his senses. Visually, audibly— though Shu’s beauty is barely tangible to him, anyone could easily understand that you will never perceive anything as exquisite as his Teach.
He tries to focus again, this time on finding the smell he’s looking for. Even if it’s just the salt of his sweat, he wants his nose to be assaulted with only Shu. He hadn’t even noticed Shu calling his name, and he certainly hadn’t noticed his very obvious state of sniffing his coat like a detection dog.
“ Ka- ge- hi- ra! Are you even listening to me?”
When he pulls away from the fabric, his pupils are cloudy and dilated. “Haah? Yeah, ‘m listenin’.” Obviously, the other could tell he was lying through his teeth, but he knew he wouldn’t mind if he made his move without asking. Humming, he pointed with his middle and forefingers at the space in front of him; it’s a simple gesture that Shu had taught him when they used to do his weekly maintenance. He got up quickly, almost as if he was excited at whatever was in store for him. His doll always loved to be touched.
He wastes no time in wrapping the measuring tape around the familiar small waist, measuring his hips and chest as well. They usually did this in silence, but it has been so very long since then. They’ve both grown. “Do you like my cologne? It’s new. I thought it would be appropriate for my time with you.”
Mika wasn’t in the proper state to answer. With Shu’s hands brushing against his bare skin after so long, he found himself barely able to respond. His fingers were practiced and warm, they burned with a heat Mika missed more than anything. Upon receiving no response, but noting the younger’s psychical reactions, he only lowered his head to Mika’s ear and whispered:
“I missed you too.”
Of course, he’s heard him say similar things over the phone, but it was nothing like hearing it really whispered into his ear. When those hands leave his body, he still feels the warm sparks dancing along his skin. “Are ya makin’ somethin’ for me, Teach?” He asks, itching his sides in an attempt to stop his suffering.
“Modifying. I’ve got a nice cardigan you’d look wonderful in, but your waist is too small. It shouldn’t take very long, mon ange , so long as you’re patient.” He knew Mika would be patient as he always has been ever since they were children.
“‘kay, but is it alright if I watch? I like watchin’ ya. It’ll keep me busy ‘n outta yer way.” The objection never came, so Mika followed him into their personal “craft room”, where Shu usually does his creating. He began to work immediately, with such skill and practiced movement that you’d be surprised he’s only 21. Thinking about it, it’s been such a long time since he’s been in this room. All of the outfits they’ve ever used in performances, or just in general reside here: a thin layer of dust covers the memories. He’d rather not look at them. It would remind him of when Shu was still around; when he would look after him, when they’d sleep in the same bed… when they were together.
Regardless of his feelings, he’s insanely proud of the man he’s become. He’s bettered himself in so many ways that were very hard for him to change, and there are many people that can’t take those steps. It was a process, for sure, and he remembers the nights where he’d call, sobbing and begging him to just stay on the phone. He didn’t even ask him to do or say anything: he just had to stay on the phone. There were even some nights where he’d be dry heaving, or he’d throw up, but Mika could never be disgusted with anything he did. It was beautiful to watch him— to take this journey with him —all the way to where he is now.
A few minutes passed before he realized he had been crying. He was subconsciously wiping his eyes against his wrists, and the wet feeling he was suddenly hyper aware of made him extremely uncomfortable. “Are you alright, Kagehira? You’re rubbing your wrists. Have you been crying?” The comforting weight of Shu’s hand on back made him look down to the floor in shame. He’d promised he wouldn’t be a bother, and although he knows Shu, this Shu, wouldn’t be angry with him for crying, he can’t help feeling guilty. “There, there,” he comforts, bringing Mika into his arms and moving the hand that strokes his back onto his head. “It brings back memories, doesn’t it?”
Tears still threatening to spill out of his eyes, Mika nods into his shoulder, returning his gentle embrace.
“Come, let’s get you dressed. You need a break.”
A break? It was an odd concept for Shu to think he needed a break. He’s got so many friends— so many people to help him when he needs it, and it’s strange that he’d not told himself he needed a break. He even has Shu over the phone to help him with activities, and that alone is much more than enough.
“Are ya doin’ this for me alone?” His voice was shaking as he responded, most likely as a result of him trying not to cry again. “I don’t need a break, Teach. Ya just traveled all the way from France, make me breakfast, and ruined yer cardigan for me. I want ya to do stuff you wanna do.”
He could’ve giggled at Shu’s shocked face.
“Anything is something I’d like to do as long as you enjoy it. You know I've grown so fond of that smile of yours…” He bites his bottom lip, and his eyes shoot quickly from Mika’s and to their bedroom door. “Let’s get ready now, I’m becoming impatient.”
With no more delays, Mika quickly throws on the outfit that was crafted for him (after changing his undergarments, of course), and gawks at it in the mirror. It was so Shu . It looked sophisticated and elegant, and he’s certain he could’ve never styled something like this himself. From the bed, Shu chuckles warmly at his fascination. “It suits you well… Ah, before I forget,” he pulls out a small box and presents it to Mika, “I want you to wear this. You don’t have to wear it all the time if you don’t wish to, but it— it reminded me of you, that’s all.”
The ring was beautiful. Usually, he’d be sent certain pastries, some fragrances, and a few knick knacks that Shu saw on the way to his studio; this was so far beyond any of that. It sparkles like if all the night sky’s stars were compressed and put into a tiny, marquise-cut diamond. He was holding his breath looking down at it, and he couldn’t help but wonder how on earth this gorgeous piece of jewelry could’ve ever reminded Shu of him. “‘s… ‘s pretty. I can’t stop lookin’ at it. What made ya think of me when findin’ this?” He peeled his eyes away from the prepossessing diamond as Shu slid it carefully around his ring finger.
“We can talk about it later. We have to go now,” he states, grabbing his bag, as well as Mika’s hand: their fingers connected like puzzle pieces. He finds himself holding his breath again as he stares into those deep iris eyes he knows so well. “It’ll last longer than the other side of the street this time, okay?”
Just by that, Mika could tell he was about to have the greatest day of his life.