OUR STORY (BxB)

Chapter 4

-TAMARO –

Was he... jealous? He barely said a word during dinner. Kept sulking, staring at his plate like it held all the answers. I tried not to jump to conclusions, but ever since that kiss earlier, Akiro had gone completely quiet. Even while I chatted with the other members, I noticed every subtle movement of his. Joshua made an attempt to speak with him—Akiro smiled, but it was that hollow kind that never reached the eyes.

After dinner, everyone slipped away to their rooms. I stood up and made my way to ours, expecting Akiro to follow. But thirty minutes passed... and still no sign of him. That quiet absence started to ache. I stepped outside and searched around the house—nothing. Even the staff had gone to sleep. So I wandered further, hoping to feel his presence somewhere in the silence.

Then I saw him—alone on the bench, gazing up at the moon like it held a secret he couldn't say aloud. I didn't call out. Just stood there watching, unsure of what weighed so heavily on him. When I heard the soft sound of his sobs, my feet moved before I could think. I sat beside him in silence. His eyes met mine, glistening, and I pulled him into a hug—tight, trembling. Seeing him cry shattered me.

I tried to hold it in, but my own tears betrayed me. He pushed me gently, as if to see my face.

"Why are you crying?" he asked. So I told him.

We stayed like that, looking up at the moon together, wrapped in the quiet until he broke it with something that made my heart stumble.

"Did you like the kiss?" he asked.

My thoughts froze. So that's what this was all about.

I laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension. "Why do you ask?"

He didn't answer. Just stared at me with those sharp, accusing eyes and a pout that tugged at my heart. I wanted to kiss that pout away. He was so unbelievably endearing.

"Did you really enjoy it?" His voice tightened.

"Are you... jealous?" I teased gently, watching his shoulders stiffen.

"No. Why would I be?" he muttered, turning back to the moon. But I kept looking at him—because how could I not, with the way he glowed under silver light?

"To be honest, I didn't like it," I whispered. Because... I wanted my first kiss to be with the person I love."

He turned then, staring at me like I'd flipped the world sideways.

"That was my first kiss, Akiro," I confessed. I always imagined saving it for someone I truly loved. But it's done now. I can't give my first kiss to the person I love... but I promise, my last kiss will be his."

I looked at him with everything in me. I don't know if he understood the depth behind my words. Maybe he did. Maybe it was too much. The air felt delicate—almost sacred—so we quietly agreed to return to the room.

As we stepped into the room, I headed straight to the bathroom while Akiro collapsed onto the bed without a word. By the time I was done, he was still lying there, motionless, facing the wall. I slipped under the covers beside him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

He didn't stir. Maybe he was already asleep.

"Goodnight, baby," I whispered softly against his hair. "Don't be jealous about what happened earlier... I promise it won't happen again."

He was silent. I knew he didn't hear it—but I said it anyway.

—

By the next day, things felt normal again. Akiro was back to his usual self—playful, animated, mischievous. We shared laughter, skits, teasing remarks that echoed off the practice room walls. It felt good... like breathing again.

The Young Prince continued to air on television, and the positive feedback pouring in was overwhelming. Interviews, fan meetings, signings—we were everywhere, smiling, waving, holding each other close for photos. But none of it was just for show. What people saw on camera was only a glimpse of how we were behind the scenes: naturally sweet, effortlessly close.

I knew Akiro didn't feel comfortable opening up to everyone. Social moments made him nervous sometimes, unsure of what to say or how to act. So, I always made sure he felt seen—highlighted, supported. I wanted him to shine.

And today, back in the practice room for The Young Prince, the energy was light and chaotic. Everyone was laughing, moving, creating moments that would make the audience grin. Akiro stayed close, as always, and I let him. I wanted him beside me. Needed it, even.

I wasn't sure if the others had started to notice what I felt. But sometimes, I caught Jemuel watching me with a knowing smile whenever my eyes lingered too long on Akiro. He didn't say anything outright—but his teasing grin said plenty.

We were supposed to travel today, but the skies had other plans. A heavy downpour washed our schedule clean, so they moved the shoot indoors—to the practice room. Akiro stayed close beside me, like always. Stephen took on the role of MC for today's game: a wild round of "X-Men," where we had to figure out who the real mutant was.

It's second nature by now—the way my arm automatically finds Akiro's, the way our hands intertwine without thought. On or off camera, it's just us being us. The game began. My opponent? Jemuel. We were both wearing ridiculous hats, trying not to laugh too hard. He lost the round after accusing me of having bad breath—an outrageous claim I knew wasn't true.

Still, curiosity got the better of me. Before the next round, I leaned toward Akiro, subtly asked if my breath was as bad as Jemuel had said. Without hesitation, Akiro leaned in, actually smelled my mouth, and confirmed—nope, perfectly fine. Only Akiro would do something like that. Only he would be so close, so unbothered, so... mine.

The game moved into a new challenge: make your opponent annoyed or flustered. This time, I was facing Harly. I started simple. "Do you like me?" I asked, my voice light but teasing.

The members practically exploded with anticipation.

"Of course, I like you," Harly replied with that signature boldness. The room erupted in cheers and teasing shouts. I laughed, but my eyes instinctively searched for Akiro. He wasn't smiling. Something in him had shifted—subtle, but there.

Then Harly said it.

"You... did you let your tongue slip out when we kissed?" His words jabbed at that sensitive spot—at the memory that still tugged at Akiro's insecurities.

I froze. The energy in the room shifted again. I turned to Akiro, gave him a quick, silent gesture that said no, of course not. But he didn't speak. Just bit his lip, eyes restless, unable to stay still. He felt intense, charged. I could feel it radiating off him.

Thank goodness for Stephen, who swept in and clarified that the kiss Harly mentioned never happened like that. A clean save.

I walked back to Akiro, no cameras now, no spotlight—just quiet truth. I wrapped my arm around him gently and leaned close, whispering words meant only for him.

"Promise. There was no tongue when we kissed," I murmured, almost hesitant. He gave a quiet nod, but something inside me still stirred with the need to explain. I wasn't sure why—it was just a kiss. But I wanted him to believe me. To feel reassured. To know it meant nothing.

The shoot carried on until we wrapped for the day. Rain continued to fall hard outside, drumming gently against the dorm windows. After dinner, everyone scattered into their own little worlds. Some listened to music, some curled into their blankets, and some had already drifted off to sleep.

But Akiro and I stayed up.

We sat side by side, playing computer games in the soft glow of our screens. No cameras, no rehearsals—just us, and the quiet hum of friendship filling the space. Tomorrow was our day off. No schedules. No scripts. Just freedom and sleep. It was already three in the morning, and yet, neither of us seemed ready to stop.

"Akiro," I called softly, fingers still on the keyboard.

"Hm?" he replied, eyes flicking toward me.

"I just... I didn't enjoy the kiss," I said, my voice barely above the hum of the CPU. "I was nervous the whole time. It's going to air on TV... and I know people will have opinions."

Akiro paused. Set down his controller. Turned to look at me completely.

"Tamaro, you don't have to explain," he said gently. I already know. I trust you. Whether there was a tongue or not, it doesn't matter. I know you didn't like it.

He smiled. And I smiled back, relief quietly washing through me.

The truth is... it really did bother me. I didn't want him to think that moment meant something it didn't. I just needed him to see my heart clearly. And tonight, with rain outside and games between us, Akiro did. He listened. He understood.

And somehow, that was more comforting than sleep.