Ken Kuroda took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and began.
"Mi-Midori-kun, I was wondering..." He had barely started speaking when his voice faded to little more than a whisper. He shook his head, a blush already starting to spread across his face, and tried again.
"Midori-kun, do you think-"
"AKAI! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" An obnoxiously loud voice thundered from the doorway. Kuroda squeaked and hid behind the full-length mirror he'd been practicing in front of as Kinbara burst into the room. He took stock of the dressing room with a few large strides and, finding Akai nowhere in sight, grabbed his laptop and an open can of Red Bull, and stormed out.
"That scared me..." Kuroda whispered to himself, clutching the front of his jersey. He fished the tiny monkey plush out of his pocket and held it gingerly with both hands before pushing its tummy in with his thumb. The monkey let out a forlorn squeak. He couldn't think of a more appropriate sentiment than that.
Just as he was about to emerge from behind the mirror he heard a noise at the doorway again, so he stayed where he was, to avoid incurring Kinbara's misplaced wrath for Akai's wishywashyness.
"Yeah, it's fine. They're all in rehearsal."
But it wasn't Kinbara at all. Kuroda was doubly glad he remained hidden, though, because the moment he heard that voice his heart began to hammer wildly against his chest. Midori-kun. Kuroda heard the door shut and a pause before Midori spoke again.
"I don't know."
Oh, he must be on the phone, Kuroda thought to himself. His entire face flushed red with embarrassment. He shouldn't be listening to this. It was rude to spy on peoples' private phone calls, especially with someone as serious and dedicated as Midori-kun. Not that being serious or dedicated had much to do with impropriety, but Kuroda was kyun-kyuning too much to think straight.
"Tuesday? Why do you ask?"
But he definitely should not have been listening in when that phone call was someone trying to make a date! Kuroda felt at once embarrassed and a little deflated. Of course girls would ask Midori-kun out on dates. He was smart and cool and popular and always knew exactly the right thing to say. Not like Kuroda. Kuroda did better with scripts and things like that. Trying to say something for himself was always a struggle with his own shyness.
"I would love to, Kana."
Inevitably the more confident woman would get there first. Kuroda felt like crying.
"But I don't think I can. I'm trying to see where things go with someone else... Yeah, it kind of started during work so it might be hard to convince him I'm serious, but I never could turn down a challenge... Good god no, not Kinbara, Kuroda."
A deafening squeak filled the room as Kuroda squeezed the life out of the tiny monkey plush. There was a prolonged silence that followed the noise and then slowly the full-length mirror was rolled away from in front of him, revealing Midori on the opposite site, the cell phone still to his ear.
"Midori-kun..." Tears started to fill Kuroda's eyes.
"I'll call you back," was all Midori said and shut off the phone. He looked at Kuroda evenly, his face a perfectly trained mask of calm. But Kuroda saw his hand tremble just a bit.
"M-Midori-kun..." he repeated and smiled that secret, warm, open smile he'd always reserved for his dreams. In the space of a single breath Midori had Kuroda pinned up against the wall and was kissing him ravenously, free of all the constraints of acting. Kuroda wrapped his arms around Midori's neck and moaned against his mouth, eagerly overwhelmed. And when Midori ground his hips against Kuroda's with wanton desire, the little monkey plush dropped from Kuroda's fingers, a casualty to their mutual passion. But the monkey had been Kuroda's confidant for long enough that even if it could have, it wouldn't have minded one bit.