The agency didn’t even call them.
They summoned them.
All of them showed up.
Except for Taiga.
Hokuto sat in a cold meeting room, surrounded by their manager and an extremely nervous PR staffer.
A printed tabloid lay on the table in front of him. The headline screamed:
"SECRET ROMANCE? SixTONES Matsumura Hokuto Spotted Leaving Late-Night Dinner with Rising Actress Hirano Rena!"
He stared at it, expression unreadable.
“It was just a meal,” he said flatly, the words nearly swallowed by the tense air.
“She got in the same van as you,” the manager replied, his voice tight, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Because it was raining,” Hokuto answered, his tone steady.
“The paparazzi don’t care about the weather,” the manager shot back.
The weight of the words hit Hokuto harder than he expected. His eyes flicked to the tabloid again. It was out of his hands now.
The other members just watched, uncertain. None of them knew whether to step in or stay silent.
This wasn’t their usual brand of chaos.
This was serious.
And none of them knew how to help Hokuto, who was helpless, cornered, and caught in a scandal.
Meanwhile, a certain someone named Kyomoto Taiga had yet to make it to the meeting.
Taiga was late. Definitely.
He was blissfully unaware of the world erupting around him as he slept peacefully in his bed.
It wasn’t until the relentless buzz of his phone broke the silence that he stirred, blinking awake from a dreamless sleep.
When he cracked his eyes open, he saw 66 unread messages in the SixTONES group chat, a missed call from his manager, and a text demanding he get to the office immediately, which stated:
"URGENT MEETING. Get to the office. Now."
Groggy and confused, he rolled out of bed, took a shower, and then threw on whatever clothes were closest and headed out, not even bothering to check his reflection. If they had the audacity to wake him up during his beauty sleep, then clearly something big had happened. Something worth interrupting his rest.
On the way, he scrolled through the group chat, eyes narrowing as the chaos unfolded message by message.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Did you see the news???
[Shintaro]:
Hoku is SCANDALOUS !!!!
[Kochi]:
He's trending. Again.
[Juri]:
“Secret romance” my ass. He's incapable of romantic gestures.
[Taiga]:
What the hell is going on? I slept for 6 hours and the group fell apart?!
[Jesse]:
TAIGA.
Get. Here. NOW.
The tension in this room could split the earth.
[Shintaro]:
Hoku hasn’t blinked in 10 minutes. I’m scared.
[Juri]:
PR looks like they’re about to cry.
[Kochi]:
We might lose Hokuto to exile. Or a forced apology post. Or both.
[Jesse]:
For real, hurry up. This room is about to implode.
[Shintaro]:
If we get cancelled, I’m blaming your alarm clock. Or your phone.
[Taiga]:
I have an alarm. I just ignored it.
[Kochi]:
Mood. But also RUN. We are dying here.
Back at the office, the agency dropped the bomb.
“We’re denying the dating rumors,” the manager said calmly, as if it were any ordinary Tuesday.
“She’s not your girlfriend,” he added, barely glancing up from the file in front of him as if he was reading off a script. His eyes flicked between Hokuto and the rest of the members, waiting for a reaction.
“Good,” Hokuto muttered, arms crossed.
“And,” the PR staffer chimed in, flipping through notes like this was a well-rehearsed press conference, “we’ll need an alternative explanation for why you were seen… holding hands.”
Hokuto blinked. “We weren’t.”
“The internet thinks you were,” the manager said flatly, cutting in before PR could answer.
Then came the sentence that would haunt Hokuto for the rest of his life:
“So we’re releasing a statement that you’re dating Kyomoto Taiga.”
A pause.
“…Your bandmate,” the manager clarified, just in case the first part wasn’t devastating enough.
“I’m sorry, what,” Hokuto stared blankly, his voice flat, body frozen.
Around him, the rest of SixTONES collectively short-circuited.
Shintaro’s jaw dropped.
Jesse let out a sound that could only be described as a gasp-choke.
Kochi’s water bottle slipped from his hand and thudded onto the floor.
And Juri looked like he was mentally calculating how fast he could flee the room without looking suspicious.
SixTONES Group Chat (During the Meeting)
[Shintaro]:
THEY’RE WHAT NOW?
[Juri]:
Who in management thought this was a good idea
[Kochi]:
Taiga gonna pass out
[Jesse]:
WAIT!! IS THIS OUR CHANCE??
[Kochi]:
…. What
[Jesse]:
To be the second couple in the group !
[Kochi]:
Do. Not. Flirt. In. A. Crisis. Room.
[Juri]:
This is not a BL drama, Jesse.
[Shintaro]:
Plot twist: it kinda is now. WE ARE THE DRAMA!
Just then, the door creaked open.
Every head in the room turned.
There stood Taiga, disheveled hoodie, one sneaker untied, and pure confusion written all over his face.
He blinked, then yawned.
“Did someone die …wait, WHAT?!”
He had caught exactly the wrong sentence at the worst time:
“We’re releasing a statement that you’re dating Kyomoto Taiga.”
Taiga froze mid-step, eyes wide.
“Excuse me?! I just woke up from a nap and now I’m in the headlines?!”
Juri buried his face in his hands.
Hokuto looked like he was silently pleading with the heavens.
Jesse and Shintaro were absolutely beaming.
Kochi was praying for sanity still within this group.
The PR staffer looked moments away from a breakdown.
And Taiga?
Taiga just wanted to go back to sleep.
“This is the agency’s decision. Just follow it, and stick to the plan. Play your roles. Make it convincing,” the manager said, his gaze shifting between Taiga and the others.
“We’ll update you with any changes. Stay as low-profile as possible until the next move. And Hokuto, Taiga, get ready. We’ll need a new photo of you two. That’s all. Dismissed.”
With that, he turned and exited the room, the PR staff trailing behind him.
Silence settled like fog.
The remaining members glanced between Hokuto and Taiga, none of them daring to speak first.
“…Alright,” Juri finally said, breaking the tension. “We’ll leave you two alone. Try not to punch each other.”
He nudged the others toward the door, ushering them out.
Before closing it behind him, he took one last look back. Then shut the door gently and whispered a quiet prayer that everything wouldn’t implode.
After everyone left, Hokuto stood up and walked slowly toward Taiga, who was still lingering by the door.
The silence between them was heavier than anything the agency had just thrown at them.
Taiga rubbed his temple. “So… we’re dating now?”
Hokuto leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “Apparently.”
Taiga scoffed. “Do I get a say in it? Or do I just wake up to find out I’ve been assigned a boyfriend?”
That made Hokuto flinch, just slightly.
He didn’t look at Taiga when he said, “It’s just a PR move. It’ll blow over.”
“…Right.” Taiga nodded, but the bite in his tone didn’t go unnoticed. “Because rumors are easier to deny when you’re fake-dating your actual bandmate.”
Hokuto finally looked at him. “What do you want me to say?”
Taiga held his gaze. “I don’t know. Maybe that this is insane? That you hate it too? That we should fight it?”
There was a pause. A long one.
Then Hokuto said softly, “…I don’t hate it.”
Taiga froze.
“What?” he asked, but it came out quieter than he meant it to.
Hokuto looked away. “Forget it.”
“No,” Taiga said, stepping closer. “Say it again.”
But Hokuto just shook his head and pushed off the wall. “We should go. They’ll want photos soon.”
He opened the door, walked off without looking back, leaving Taiga standing there. Heart racing, mind spinning, trying to remember if they were still pretending .
Later that day, the press release dropped:
"SixTONES Matsumura Hokuto and SixTONES Kyomoto Taiga have recently grown close and are currently getting to know each other better."
The fandom exploded .
Especially the fans who had been shipping the two for years. It was like a prayer answered, a miracle made real.
The day had finally come.
The moment they’d been waiting for.
#KyomoHoku trended within minutes.
Fan edits flooded the timeline.
Clips.
Slow-motion stares.
Hand-holding theories.
A decade’s worth of sidelong glances were suddenly reinterpreted as the gaze of soulmates-in-the-making.
Some even claimed they’d known it all along.
And SixTONES?
They were thriving in the chaos.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Juri]:
I give them two weeks before Taiga actually falls.
[Shintaro]:
Bold of you to assume he hasn’t already.
[Jesse]:
I can’t wait for couple merch!
[Kochi]:
Can’t believe we’re living in the era where Hokuto and Taiga are officially a couple.
[Taiga]:
STOP TALKING ABOUT ME I’M RIGHT HERE
[Juri]:
Exactly. That’s why we’re calling you out. Also, Hokuto, stop ghosting.
[Hokuto]:
I have no words.
[Jesse]:
Don’t worry. We’ll make this as real as possible. We’re professionals.
[Taiga]:
DON’T OVERDO IT, JESSE!
[Shintaro]:
Strategically speaking, we’re just accelerating a narrative.
[Kochi]:
AND SO IT BEGINS.
The official statement had been live for less than a day, and already:
The agency called it “Operation: Control the Narrative.”
Taiga called it “Operation: Please Let Me Sleep. Or Die.”
“You’re going on a coffee date tomorrow,” their manager said one morning, after a few days of relative quiet.
“In public. In broad daylight. With matching masks.”
He said it like it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing anyone had ever heard.
“Why are the masks matching?” Taiga muttered, deadpan.
“The fans will eat it up,” the manager shrugged.
Taiga blinked. “I’m going to throw up.”
Hokuto, calm as ever, simply said, “Smile. It’s just a fake date.”
SixTONES Group Chat
[Shintaro]:
DATE ALERT. I repeat: DATE ALERT.
[Juri]:
Hokuto and Taiga going to a cafe together? What year is this???
[Kochi]:
Wait. Are they seriously wearing matching masks?? Who planned this? Give them a raise.
[Jesse]:
If they actually kiss I’m deleting my account (I’m not strong enough for this)
[Taiga]:
I HATE ALL OF YOU
Their first “date” was scheduled for 11 a.m., and Taiga was already regretting his life choices by 11:01.
The cafe was exactly the kind of place that screamed, “Please take photos of us pretending to be normal.”
Warm lighting. A big window. Too aesthetic for its own good.
Taiga was already waiting outside, wearing a gray mask and a gray hoodie (Hokuto’s, actually).
“You wore my hoodie on purpose,” Hokuto said as he arrived, also wearing a gray mask paired with a black hoodie.
Mask matching. As they want.
“It was on my chair,” Taiga replied with a shrug.
“It was on your chair because I took it off yesterday,” Hokuto deadpanned.
“I’m doing the agency a favor, I guess. You’re welcome for the boyfriend look.”
Taiga shrugged again, then stepped into the cafe. Hokuto followed.
They settled at a small round table in the corner but close enough to the window to look candid, far enough to pretend they had privacy.
Two drinks sat untouched between them.
They didn’t speak for the first five minutes.
Not because they didn’t have anything to say.
But because a camera flashed outside the window and Taiga’s soul left his body.
“Are we supposed to talk?” he asked finally.
Hokuto took a slow sip of his drink. “We could. About the weather. Or our fake undying love.”
Taiga rolled his eyes. “You think you’re funny.”
“I think the fans think I’m romantic.”
“Gross.”
“And yet here you are. On a date with me.”
“I’m literally being held hostage.”
“You’re holding my hand under the table.”
Taiga yanked his hand back with a curse. “What the .. ! I didn’t … ”
Hokuto laughed, low and quiet.
“I was startled by the camera outside,” Taiga huffed, ears pink.
“They can’t see under this table,” Hokuto said, sipping again. “If we’re going to sell it, we should go all in.”
“Shut up, Hokuto,” Taiga hissed.
After the cafe date, they strolled through a nearby park. Close enough to look natural, not too close to raise eyebrows, but not far enough to spark questions. Basically the so-called second “fake date”.
Photographers were definitely tailing them. One even tripped trying to hide behind a tree, earning a snort from Taiga.
Then, without warning, Hokuto reached for his wrist and tugged him closer.
The touch was casual, familiar.
Like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like it still meant something.
Taiga’s breath hitched for half a second. His instinct screamed to pull away, but the cameras were watching. Always watching.
So he stayed.
“You’re supposed to look in love,” Hokuto murmured, just loud enough for Taiga to hear.
“I’m trying not to punch you. That’s close enough.”
“You do look red, though.”
Taiga clenched his jaw. “It’s the sun.”
“It’s cloudy.”
He didn’t answer. His cheeks burned hotter anyway.
“SHUT UP,” he snapped, a little too loud. A bird took off from a nearby branch.
But Hokuto only smiled, like he’d already won something.
That night, Taiga returned home, dropped his phone on the bed, and collapsed beside it. He stared at the ceiling, brain spinning.
He grabbed my wrist.
He smiled like it meant something.
It felt…
Real.
Taiga sighed, rolling onto his side. “This is starting to confuse me. Why the hell is Hokuto doing everything he did today?”
His thoughts wouldn’t stop spiraling. Or maybe he was just overthinking, again.
Hokuto was only doing his job. That’s all. He always took work seriously. Of course he should do it. It was just PR. Right?
Taiga reached for his phone, unlocking it… then locking it again. Twice.
Finally, he opened his socials.
He was certain their pictures from today were trending already.
“Why were we laughing like we actually enjoyed it?” he muttered. “Is this even fake anymore?”
He stared at one of the pictures. The two of them mid-laugh, like a real couple, like something behind the smile meant something.
Taiga’s chest tightened.
He closed the app immediately.
“That can’t be.”
Meanwhile, in his own apartment, Hokuto was curled up on the couch, scrolling through his social media.
Fan edits flooded the timeline. Some were hilariously over-the-top, with dramatic music, sparkles, soft-focus zooms.
Others were just quiet snapshots of the two of them mid-laugh, looking...
Happy.
He paused on one.
They were standing close, eyes crinkled, mid-laugh.
He zoomed in on Taiga’s smile. Soft.
Hokuto let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
Then muttered to himself:
“Fake my ass.”
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Cute date. 8/10. Needs more touching.
[Kochi]:
I saw the way Taiga looked at him.
[Taiga]:
Can I block this group?
[Shintaro]:
Do it and we make a new one.
[Juri]:
Don’t worry. We're already planning your couple merch line. Maybe hoodies say “I Fake-Date My Bandmate (And I Like It)”
[Hokuto]:
Oh
[Taiga]:
I SWEAR TO GOD! I’m deleting all of you from my life!
[Shintaro]:
You’re already in the soft-launch stage. Just do it!
After the group chat finally died down, Hokuto stayed where he was. Still curled into the couch like the silence might hold him together.
The only light in the room came from his phone, casting soft blue shadows across his face.
The smile he wore earlier had long since faded.
He thought about the way Taiga’s hand fit into his.
The warmth of his wrist. The way Taiga didn’t pull away right away but just... stood there.
His fingers hovered over Taiga’s name in his messages.
He didn’t type anything. Didn’t open the chat. Just stared at it for a while.
Then he locked the screen. Let it drop to his chest.
“Don’t make this complicated, Hokuto,” he muttered to himself.
The third “fake date” came sooner than expected.
This time, the agency wanted them to be seen coming out of a convenience store together.
“Casual, normal, couplecore vibes.”
Jesse called it “Gay errands.”
Kochi called it “Netflix marketing.”
Taiga called it “Hell.”
It was colder than expected that evening.
Hokuto showed up late, hair still damp from a shower, wearing a black jacket that somehow made his legs look longer and his aura look more expensive.
Taiga, wearing two hoodies and still somehow freezing, felt instantly underdressed. And, frankly, unprepared.
“Hey,” Hokuto greeted, casual as ever.
“Hi,” Taiga replied, very much not casually.
They entered the store.
Hokuto went straight for the snacks. Taiga wandered toward the bottled teas. It was quiet. Normal. Almost easy.
Until it wasn’t.
The moment was small.
It happened in a blink.
Hokuto turned mid-aisle, walking toward him.
No words. No warning. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of Taiga’s hair back into place. His fingers lingered just a beat too long.
Taiga froze, too stunned to react.
And then Hokuto walked away like nothing happened.
Taiga stared down at the bottle in his hand, only realizing then how close he was to dropping it.
He heard a muffled gasp. Somewhere to his left.
Definitely someone recording. He didn’t even have to look.
Taiga was right. Two cameras caught it. And already 17 Twitter fansites posted it. It trended within minutes.
Somewhere across Tokyo, Jesse screamed. Not a normal scream. A feral one.
He immediately screen-recorded the clip, added sparkles and dramatic zooms, and dumped it into the group chat with zero context.
Back at the convenience store, Taiga and Hokuto hadn’t even made it to the exit.
They were still in line.
Their phones buzzed simultaneously, like they were being summoned to hell.
Notifications poured in like a tsunami just as they reached the cashier.
They exchanged a glance.
“Did someone die?” Taiga asked, deadpan.
“Yeah,” Hokuto muttered. “Us.”
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
BREAKING NEWS!! HE TOUCHED HIS BANGS. I REPEAT. BANGS. WERE. TOUCHED.
[Kochi]:
That’s… kinda intimate, tho?? Like, a K-drama episode 8 level intimate.
[Taiga]:
IT WAS STATIC ELECTRICITY
[Juri]:
Oh cool, static comes with a soft smile now? Explain that, professor.
[Shintaro]:
He blushed so hard he turned into a tomato.
[Jesse]:
WAIT I’M MAKING AN EDIT. TITLE: “THE MOMENT THEY FELL IN LOVE AT FAMILYMART”
[Taiga]:
I’M DELETING THIS ENTIRE CHAT HISTORY
[Hokuto]:
Tomato Taiga is kinda cute tho
[Taiga]:
I HATE YOU ALL.
[Jesse]:
Love you too!
Taiga glared at Hokuto, who was shamelessly playing along with the others like it was nothing. Hokuto just shrugged, as innocent.
They stepped out of the store, and the wind hit hard.
Taiga flinched, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “Holy hell —”
Before he could finish the curse, Hokuto was already peeling off his jacket.
And then, without a word, he draped it over Taiga’s shoulders. Wrapped him in it. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Taiga blinked. The jacket was warm. Heavy. It smelled like Hokuto, that stupid mix of expensive detergent and something else. Something weirdly comforting. Familiar. Hard to describe.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
“You’re cold.”
“We’re being watched,” Taiga gritted out, eyes darting to a group of girls across the street. They were definitely filming.
“Exactly.” Hokuto’s voice was calm. Controlled. Way too smug.
Taiga turned to him slowly. “You’re enjoying this.”
Hokuto gave a half-smile, the one that always spelled doom. For Taiga, specifically. “I’m just committed to the bit.”
Taiga opened his mouth. Closed it again. He tugged the jacket tighter around himself, jaw tense.
“This doesn’t feel fake,” he muttered.
Hokuto looked at him. Quiet. Eyes unreadable.
“That’s your problem.”
Taiga didn’t respond.
Didn’t give the jacket back either.
They made it to the van in silence.
Their manager eyed them from the driver’s seat, expression unreadable behind the rearview mirror.
Taiga climbed in first, still wearing Hokuto’s jacket. Hokuto followed, calm as ever, as if he hadn’t just emotionally destabilized his bandmate on a public sidewalk with a single act of charity.
The manager didn’t say a word, just glanced at them through the rearview mirror once again before starting the engine. The radio was off. The hum of traffic outside filled the void.
Taiga stared out the window, trying to get his pulse back to normal.
His fingers fidgeted with the hem of the jacket. Hokuto’s jacket, like it might offer answers. Or oxygen. Or maybe just a decent explanation for why he could still feel the ghost of Hokuto’s hand on his shoulder. Why the simple words “You’re cold” kept playing on repeat in his head like some tragically soft ballad.
Beside him, Hokuto lounged like a man who hadn't just committed emotional terrorism.
Relaxed. Legs spread obnoxiously wide. Scrolling through his phone like the world wasn’t combusting around them. Like he hadn’t just set the group chat, the fanbase, and possibly Taiga’s brain on fire.
The silence between them wasn’t hostile, it just... loaded.
Unspoken things floated in the air like static.
Words hovered on the edge of their tongues, unsaid only because their manager was right there, driving in dead silence, probably rethinking every life decision that led him to babysitting emotionally repressed idols.
Halfway through the ride, Taiga cracked. Just a little.
He turned to Hokuto, voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to commit that hard to the bit.”
Hokuto didn’t even look up. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Taiga blinked. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Your jacket is still on me.”
“Because you’re still cold.”
Taiga opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
Failed.
The manager cleared his throat, quietly but pointedly.
They both straightened like scolded schoolboys.
Neither spoke for the rest of the ride.
When they arrived at the agency, the manager didn’t wait for any part-way goodbyes. He simply muttered, “Good luck,” and drove off the moment they shut the van doors. Presumably, to enjoy five minutes of peace and reconsider his contract. Especially in managing a group full of chaos.
Taiga stood there in the cold, jacket still on, brain full of fog, and Hokuto next to him like a walking contradiction.
"...Good luck with what?" Taiga muttered under his breath.
Hokuto smiled, infuriatingly gentle. Like he knew exactly what it meant.
“You’ll see.”
Taiga headed home an hour after parting ways with Hokuto at the agency.
Hokuto, of course, left like he hadn’t just emotionally dropkicked Taiga on a sidewalk in broad daylight.
Meanwhile, Taiga sat in the agency break room like a ghost of himself, trying to gather the remains of his dignity. Or sanity. Or both.
By the time he made it back to his apartment, it was already dark.
He collapsed onto the couch, still wearing Hokuto’s jacket.
He should have returned it.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t want to.
Taiga buried his face in the collar and took a breath.
“Stupid fake boyfriend smell,” he muttered.
“Stupid real feelings.”
He let out a fake laugh that sounded a little too real.
The jacket, unfortunately, smelled amazing. Like expensive cologne, laundry detergent, and something annoyingly like Hokuto. Warm, familiar, and annoyingly comforting in a way that made Taiga want to scream into a pillow.
He tugged it tighter around himself. Just to be warm. Not for emotional support or anything.
This was fine. Everything was fine.
Except for the part where he was fake-dating his bandmate and maybe, accidentally, inconveniently, horrifyingly falling in love for real.
Which was not fine.
Not even a little bit.
Hokuto had gotten home earlier, but he hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed.
He was still sitting there, eyes glued to his phone.
He scrolled through fan edits again. This time, someone had slowed the moment he placed his jacket on Taiga, overlayed with dramatic piano music and the caption:
“PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS”
He didn’t mean to save it.
But he did.
Accidentally.
On purpose.
Whatever.
He stared at the thumbnail in his gallery for a moment too long before tossing his phone aside like it betrayed him.
He shouldn’t have done that jacket thing. It was reckless. Dangerous. Public.
But Taiga had been shivering.
And Hokuto was only a human. A man with a jacket. And a stupid heart.
He collapsed backwards onto the bed and dragged a pillow over his face.
“Stupid Taiga,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“Stupid cold weather.”
He knew the internet would be in flames by now. Their clips would be all over Twitter. Probably trending. Maybe globally.
He was very aware of the chaos they’d caused.
But none of that stuck with him. Not the cameras. Not the comments. Not even the fan edits.
But what stuck with him most was the look Taiga gave him.
Not performance. It wasn’t part of the act.
Just... honest.
Real.
Way too real.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
I want what they have.
[Shintaro]:
You just want an excuse to give Kochi your jacket.
[Jesse]:
Maybe I do???
[Kochi]:
Try it and I set it on fire.
[Juri]:
PLEASE confess already. So we can focus on the other idiots.
[Taiga]:
Do I return the jacket or set it on fire?
[Hokuto]:
You looked good in it.
[Taiga]:
…Shut up
[Juri]:
OH ???
[Shintaro]:
Screenshotting for historical purposes
[Kochi]:
That’s it, I’m scheduling a group intervention, “How to Pretend You’re Not In Love (Terribly)”
[Jesse]:
Title’s too long. We can just call it “KyomoHoku: The Disaster Era”
By the time Taiga finally settled down from the chaos of the last incident, he thought maybe the agency had decided not to stir the pot again. Maybe they’d let things breathe. Maybe they’d move on.
But then again, after all these years, Taiga still wasn’t sure if he understood how the agency’s brain worked. Or if it had one. Because they never had. Whatever.
After all, a few weeks later, they were scheduled for a rooftop interview shoot.
Golden hour lighting. Casual styling. Soft smiles.
The goal?
“Couple intimacy without PDA.” – which was definitely a LIE.
Translation: Sit really close and look like you’re madly in love.
Which was fine. Really.
Too fine. Too easy.
Taiga sat stiffly on the picnic mat they set up, shoulder-to-shoulder with Hokuto, sipping lukewarm canned coffee and praying his hands didn’t shake or accidentally brush against anything fatal, like Hokuto’s knee.
Then, Hokuto leaned in and whispered, lips dangerously close, “Smile softer. You’re scowling.”
Taiga didn’t turn. He muttered back through gritted teeth, “I am soft. I’m the softest .”
“Tell your face.”
Taiga elbowed him. Hokuto smirked. The camera clicked.
The camera crew started shifting angles.
“Let’s try one where Hokuto lies down, and Taiga leans over him. Like you’re mid-laugh, but also in love,” the director said, way too casually for how hard Taiga’s heart dropped.
“Got it,” Hokuto said, already lowering himself onto the mat.
Taiga hesitated. “That’s not casual intimacy, that’s... That’s a full-blown drama scene.”
“You can be dramatic and in love,” Hokuto said, grinning, one hand tucked behind his head like it was nothing.
Cursing under his breath, Taiga leaned over him. Too close. Way too close. His palm pressed to the mat beside Hokuto’s shoulder for balance, and Hokuto looked up at him like this was a completely normal thing in the world.
It wasn’t.
“Laugh!” the director called cheerfully.
Hokuto grinned up at him. “You’re scowling again.”
“I am laughing,” Taiga whispered. “On the inside.”
Then, without thinking, Hokuto reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Taiga’s face. Slow, careful. Not for the camera. Not for anyone. Just … instinct.
Taiga’s breath hitched.
Click.
Click.
Click.
“Perfect. That’s great. Okay, let’s move on to the solo shots for now,” the director called out.
Taiga snapped back to reality and quickly pushed himself upright. Hokuto just shrugged, completely unbothered. As if that hadn’t just happened.
Their manager, who’d been watching silently from the edge of the set, smiled to himself. Then casually tapped his phone and sent out the preview shots.
Within minutes, the group chat exploded. Their members wouldn’t shut up.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Rooftop shoot: ✨ boyfriend vibes ✨
[Shintaro]:
Y’all were doing it like it’s the final episode of a BL drama. I was waiting for the confession scene.
[Kochi]:
TAIGA’S EYES WERE SCREAMING!! Like screaming "kiss me"
[Taiga]:
MY EYES WERE CLOSED??
[Juri]:
Exactly. Closed to the world. Your heart was open tho 💅🏻
[Taiga]:
I HATE YOU.
[Hokuto]:
He’s cute when he panics.
[Taiga]:
STOP SAYING THINGS THAT SOUND REAL
The shoot finally wrapped up after a while. The crew busied themselves packing up the equipment, while the director and manager stood in quiet discussion, reviewing the shots.
Somehow, Taiga and Hokuto found themselves drifting toward the edge of the rooftop.
The Tokyo skyline blinked back at them. Wind in their hair. Hokuto’s arm just barely brushing Taiga’s.
“You know,” Taiga started, staring ahead, “this is the part where they zoom in and subtitle it with ‘Kyomoto’s eyes say it all. ’”
Hokuto didn’t laugh. His voice came softer. “And what do they say?”
Taiga turned to look at him. “I have no idea anymore.”
Hokuto didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he reached out and tugged gently at the hem of Taiga’s sleeve.
“Hey.”
“What.”
“If this wasn’t fake… would it be that bad?” Hokuto asked.
Taiga froze.
Heart pounding. Head spinning. The rooftop suddenly felt too quiet.
“...What do you mean?”
Hokuto smiled softly. The kind Taiga hated because it made him feel too much.
“Just wondering.”
The wind picked up, ruffling Taiga’s hair. Or maybe that was just an excuse to look away.
Because if he looked too long, he might say something real.
And they weren’t allowed to be real.
“That’s a dangerous question,” Taiga muttered.
Hokuto hummed. “You didn’t say no.”
Taiga turned to him, eyes sharp. “You didn’t say yes .”
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The city stretched out before them, full of noise and lights, but up here it felt quiet. Too quiet.
Then Hokuto leaned in, just slightly. Barely enough to close the space between them.
Enough for Taiga to feel the warmth. To feel him.
And in a voice softer than the wind, he said, “You’re shaking.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Taiga pulled his sleeve back gently, breaking the touch. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t act like you care when we’re off-camera.”
Hokuto looked like he’d been slapped. Just for a second.
Then he nodded slowly, stepped back.
“Right,” he said. “Back to the script.”
And he stepped away.
And Taiga didn’t stop him. Even though part of him wanted to.
So badly.
That night, Taiga couldn’t sleep.
He was wearing Hokuto’s jacket again. At this rate, it was becoming a habit.
Whether it confused him more or brought him comfort, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t even know which struggle he wanted to choose.
His eyes stayed wide open. He blinked. Shifted to his side.
Stared at his phone. Didn’t text. Didn’t call. Just stared.
But his mind wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop replaying everything,
every glance,
every laugh,
every brush of fingers that didn’t feel like acting anymore.
“Stupid Hokuto,” he muttered, burying his face into his pillow.
Meanwhile, Hokuto lay in bed, eyes fixed on the Tokyo skyline outside his window.
The lights blurred slightly in his vision. Not from sleep. Not from anything he could explain.
He whispered to no one,
“It’s already not fake… is it?”
Somewhere deep down, he knew the PR stunts had already blurred the lines.
Whether it was just the feelings, or something else entirely.
He couldn’t tell anymore.
And maybe, he didn’t want to.
After the rooftop shoot, the magazine they starred in sold out in almost every corner of the city.
With all the buzz, the scandal about Hokuto dating the new actress began to fade into the background.
Now, it was all about them .
As the photoshoot gained traction and spiked in popularity, the duo was invited to yet another shoot in the following weeks.
The concept was simple:
A photoshoot.
Soft lighting. Cozy outfits.
Carefully staged intimacy.
The director’s words?
“Act like it’s the first time you realized you’re in love.”
Taiga felt his breath catch.
That line should’ve been easy to play. It was a job. They had done worse.
But this time, Hokuto was looking at him like the cameras weren’t there.
Like he meant it.
Taiga looked away too fast, too suddenly.
The assistant stepped forward, grinning.
“Can we get makeup to powder Kyomoto’s ears? They’re... red.”
Laughter rippled across the set, light-hearted.
But inside, Taiga’s pulse thundered.
And Hokuto?
Hokuto tried not to smile. Tried not to let it show that he’d noticed before anyone else.
That the flush had started the second their eyes met.
After the concept briefing, they were ushered off to change and have their makeup done.
The outfits screamed soulmates who’ve been married for years.
Hokuto wore a soft beige oversized sweater which was too warm, too comfortable to be safe.
Taiga’s pastel hoodie had a wide collar that kept slipping, revealing the edge of his collarbone. He kept trying to tug it back up, but the stylist swatted his hand away.
“Because you’re pretty in this,” she said.
That earned him another blush. He tried to play it off with a straight face and a flat, “No way,” before laughing. Hopefully it didn’t sound fake.
Beside him, Hokuto chatted easily with the stylist, flashing that same charming smile that made people forget what they were saying. Typical Hokuto.
People kept talking to them, asking questions, making small talk and they answered like it was nothing. Neither of them let it show that there was something else in the air between them. Something unresolved.
“All done!” the makeup artist announced. “Oh my god, you two are literally perfect for each other. So lovely!”
They both smiled like they’d heard it a thousand times. Inside, their hearts were loud enough to drown out the noise of the room.
The crew had just finished setting up.
It looked like something pulled straight out of a cozy drama scene, the kind you’d watch on a rainy night.
A couch far too small for two people to sit without touching.
A blanket draped lazily over the back, like it had been there for years.
Beside it, a reading lamp glowing gold, soft and warm, making every shadow feel closer.
The air seemed quieter here. Too quiet. Like the set itself was waiting for them to break the silence.
Taiga swallowed hard. It should’ve been easy. Just another job. Just another pose. They’d done more than this before. But the problem wasn’t the scene.
It was the fact that on a couch this small, under this kind of light, there was no way to pretend the closeness was only acting.
Hokuto swallowed hard. He could feel how tense Taiga was beside him. And it would be a lie to say his own heart hadn’t skipped a beat too.
They’d done countless shoots before. Solo frames, duo shots, even close-ups that left no space between them.
All of those had been bearable. Manageable.
But this… This felt different. Today had that dangerous edge, like something unspoken had slipped into the air between them. Something he might have already recognized, but wasn’t ready to admit.
“Okay, let’s start simple,” the director called. “Matsumura-san, sit on the couch, reading a book. Kyomoto-san, you sit on the carpet, headphones on. Lean as close as possible, like you’re spending a cozy day at home together.”
They both nodded, taking the props from the crew.
Hokuto sat first, settling in with the book open in his hands, eyes lowered like he was lost in the pages. Taiga followed, sitting close, close enough for the camera, but hopefully not close enough to give him away.
Click. Click. Click. The camera flashed.
“Alright,” the director continued, “Kyomoto-san, lean your head on Matsumura-san’s thigh, like you’ve drifted off listening to music. Matsumura-san, keep the book open, but look at him like you’ve just realized you’re in love.”
Taiga’s heartbeat thundered in his chest. Still, he leaned in, resting his head carefully on Hokuto’s leg.
Hokuto shifted almost subtly, adjusting so Taiga could be comfortable. The small movement sent a sharp jolt straight to Taiga’s chest.
“Perfect,” the director said.
Click. Click. Click. The shutter kept firing, as if one shot would never be enough.
“Okay, Kyomoto-san, now sit beside Matsumura-san on the couch. Let’s get that shot first.”
Taiga nodded, but there was a flicker of hesitation. Hokuto noticed and subtly shifted, making just enough space for him.
Taiga took a slow breath and sat down. Too close. He could feel Hokuto. The warmth, the realness and had to snap himself out of it, reminding himself this was work. Just work.
Click. Click. Click. The camera captured the moment.
“Alright, crew, take the headphones and book. Moving to the next scene,” the director called.
As the props were whisked away, an invisible shift filled the air. Without them, it suddenly felt harder to breathe.
Now came the real chaos.
They were told to sit close. Closer.
“Lean into him a little, Matsumura-san. Like you’re realizing something.” the director said. “Put your hand on his chest, Kyomoto-san. Just there, right over the heart.”
Taiga slowly put his hand on Hokuto's chest. His fingers brushed against the fabric of Hokuto’s sweater. Soft wool.
And beneath it, a heartbeat. Steady. Real.
The moment held. Too long.
No one said "cut." The camera kept clicking non-stop.
Then the words dropped like a stone in still water.
“Let’s do one with a kiss.”
Everything stopped. The crew froze mid-step.
Taiga forgot to breathe.
Hokuto didn’t move, didn’t even blink.
“A light one,” the director clarified, as if that made it easier. “Forehead or cheek. Something the fans will scream over.”
It didn’t make it easier.
“You’re not serious,” Taiga said, the laugh that escaped sounding too thin, too nervous.
“Come on, it’s fine,” the director replied. “Just acting. Do whatever feels comfortable.”
Comfortable? With Hokuto sitting this close?
With With Hokuto’s heartbeat right under Taiga’s hand? Impossible.
Taiga hesitated. Hokuto didn’t move.
They nodded but not at the same time. The beat was off, just enough to feel like the air between them thickened, dense and warm, pulling them in and holding them there.
They leaned in.
Taiga’s aim was for Hokuto’s cheek.
Hokuto’s aim was for Taiga’s cheek.
They should’ve met halfway.
.........
They didn’t.
Somewhere in that closing distance, they misjudged…
and found each other’s lips instead.
Click. Flash.
The sound of the camera felt far away, like it was coming from another room.
Taiga’s mind went completely blank except for one loud, unshakable thought: This is not the cheek.
Every nerve in his body screamed at once, but none of them told him to move.
Hokuto didn’t jerk back either. He didn’t even stiffen.
He stayed right there, lips soft, still, warm against Taiga’s. Holding the connection like it was a thread that might snap if he shifted too soon.
Taiga’s hand was still resting against Hokuto’s chest. Through the plush wool of the sweater, he could feel the heartbeat beneath.
It wasn’t steady anymore. It stumbled. Skipped. Matched Taiga’s own.
Hokuto’s scent was faint but unavoidable. Clean laundry, something citrus, and a trace of cologne that was warm and subtle. It wrapped around Taiga in the way scent sometimes does, seeping in before you realize it’s there.
A shallow breath escaped Hokuto, brushing warm across Taiga’s skin. The sound of it was too close, too intimate.
Then slowly, Hokuto moved. Not pulling back, but forward. Just slightly. Just enough to make it clear this wasn’t a mistake he was rushing to fix.
Taiga’s chest tightened. His lips parted without thought, almost an instinct and that was all it took.
Hokuto’s lips followed the shift, catching the small movement like he’d been waiting for it. It was still gentle. Still barely there. But now, deliberate.
The faint brush of lips became a second, softer touch, lips pressing in a way that was careful like Hokuto was asking something without words.
Taiga’s fingers curled in the fabric of Hokuto’s sweater, a tiny, grounding anchor against the dizzying weightlessness in his chest.
The room was too quiet. No one spoke. No one dared to move.
The camera kept clicking, each flash slicing through the dim golden light, but even that felt quieter than the sound of Taiga swallowing.
His pulse was in his ears. In his throat. Under his fingertips.
Hokuto tilted his head the smallest bit, deepening the contact in a way that wasn’t hungry but impossible to mistake for an accident.
Taiga’s breath caught. But then he kissed back. Just enough to answer. Just enough to admit, without words, that he wasn’t pulling away.
Fabric shifted softly between them. The couch creaked. Somewhere far off, a crew member exhaled like they’d been holding their breath too.
And still, no one called “cut.”
When they finally drew apart, it was slow. Painfully slow, like gravity itself was reluctant to let them go. The space between them was small, charged, too fragile for sudden movement.
Taiga’s lips were still tingling. His breathing was uneven, too loud in his own ears. His eyes were wide, searching Hokuto’s face for something. An explanation, a denial, anything and found Hokuto already looking back.
“…Was that… supposed to happen?” Taiga asked, voice low, almost shaky.
Hokuto didn’t answer. But he didn’t look away either.
And Taiga knew, without question, that neither of them would be able to pretend it hadn’t.
The sharp clap of the director’s hands shattered the moment.
“Perfect! That’s the one!” he said, calm as if they’d just nailed a scripted moment. “Mark this. That’s a wrap on this scene.”
Just like that, the crew moved again, bustling as if nothing unusual had happened. Props were gathered, lighting adjusted, conversations resumed.
They carefully pulled back from each other, creating space without meeting eyes. Somehow, no one around them seemed to care, like the kiss was the most normal thing in the world. To the crew, maybe it was just a couple who’d gotten carried away, leaning into the “shy lovers” concept for the fans’ benefit. Or maybe it was playful, one of those teasing moments fans would scream over. After all, KyomoHoku had always been the “perfect couple” everyone rooted for. If anyone suspected otherwise, they weren’t saying it.
They remained on the couch, now sitting upright but still side by side on the couch, still close enough to feel each other’s warmth. The air between them hummed.
Hokuto turned slightly toward Taiga, who still looked like he was processing every second of what had just happened.
“Taiga…” Hokuto’s voice was quiet.
“Don’t.” Taiga cut him off before he could say more, eyes fixed straight ahead.
“We should talk,” Hokuto said anyway, unshaken.
“Yeah,” Taiga said after a pause. “We should. Later. Maybe.” His tone was uncertain, like he was holding something back. But he didn’t move away. Didn’t look at Hokuto.
Hokuto swallowed hard. His throat burned, whether from the words he wasn’t saying or the urge to say too much, he couldn’t tell.
“Kyomoto-san, Matsumura-san. Let’s change into the next outfits,” the director called, approaching. “We’ll do some solo shots before we wrap for today.”
Taiga nodded quickly, standing in one swift movement and walking toward the changing room without looking back.
Hokuto watched his retreating figure, sighed quietly, and forced a polite smile at the director. “I’ll be right there,” he said, earning a friendly tap on the shoulder. Around them, the crew bustled, preparing the next set.
From the corner of the set, their manager stood silently, watching the whole exchange with raised eyebrows and a knowing sigh. He didn’t say a word, just sent out the clip.
A second later, every member’s phone buzzed.
And the group chat exploded.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
HELLOOOO????
EXPLAIN. YOURSELVES.
[Kochi]:
I THOUGHT THIS WAS A PHOTOSHOOT, NOT A CONFESSION VIDEO ?!
[Shintaro]:
Did you two just… ACCIDENTALLY kiss???
Like. Actually kiss. On the lips. Not a cheek. Not the forehead.
[Juri]:
That was a kiss with FEELING. How do you miss a cheek and land a full kiss??
[Taiga]:
Can you all STOP!
[Jesse]:
WE WILL BE DISCUSSING THIS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
[Hokuto]:
We missed , okay? It was acting. Method acting. Stop making this a big deal.
[Kochi]:
You “method acted” your lips straight into his soul????
[Juri]:
The director literally said “Perfect” like he’d just witnessed an Oscar-winning scene. He didn’t even yell CUT
[Shintaro]:
Does this mean I won the bet?? Because I SAID something was gonna happen during filming. And y’all laughed. Now LOOK!
[Jesse]:
I feel like I just witnessed a secret wedding. And nobody invited me. I demand compensation!
[Taiga]:
I’m blocking all of you. No, actually, I’m kicking you all from my life. For real, I'm leaving this group.
[Jesse]:
You can leave, but the kiss lives forever.
Taiga stared at his phone, jaw tight. Frustration churned under his skin. His thumb hovered over the screen without moving.
He needed to act normal. Anything else would raise suspicion about their so-called relationship. The one that was supposed to be purely for PR.
This was work. That’s all. It was meant to protect the group. He’d told himself that a hundred times already. And surely Hokuto saw it the same way.
Definitely.
Since it was time for solo shots, they managed to avoid each other. That was good.
Necessary.
They just had to make it look like everything was fine, like the earlier scene had been nothing unusual.
They only interacted when the director asked. Just for the job. They were professionals. They’d been idols for over a decade. They could handle this.
When the photoshoot finally wrapped, both of them were quietly relieved. But that conversation, the one they’d promised to have… never came.
Not a word passed between them beyond what the job required.
They thanked the crew, smiled at the director, and laughed at his praise when he said he hoped to work with them again.
The laughter didn’t reach their eyes. Inside, each of them was holding a storm that refused to settle.
They changed in silence. Walked off set separately.
And somehow still ended up side by side, waiting for the van.
The faint scent of Hokuto’s cologne drifted over, the same one Taiga had noticed earlier, closer. And he forced himself not to shift away.
Their manager was still deep in conversation with the director, apparently forgetting he had the keys. And leaving the two of them stranded there like two wires sparking too close together.
No one spoke. No one dared to. They waited silently.
When the manager finally returned, he unlocked the van without comment and slid into the driver’s seat. They climbed in silently.
In the van, Taiga slid into the seat by the window. Hokuto took the one behind him.
They both pulled out their phones.
Mindless scrolling. Tapping on things just to have something to do. Neither of them were really looking at the screen.
Taiga locked and unlocked his phone. Once. Twice. Three times.
He caught the faintest sound behind him. The shift of fabric, a quiet inhale and swallowing before he could think about why it mattered.
Hokuto opened his chat with Taiga, typed something. But then erased it.
Their manager drove in silence, glancing at them in the mirror.
He didn’t say a word. Just sighed softly, rubbing his temple.
He’d seen them banter. Fight. Laugh. Act like idiots. Be close.
But he’d never seen this.
Not this kind of silence.
So he let it be.
That night, Taiga curled into Hokuto’s jacket like it could shield him from his own thoughts. The faint scent clung to the fabric. Warm, clean, and so unmistakably like Hokuto, it made Taiga’s chest ache.
He curled into it, pressing his face into the collar until the scent filled every breath. It should’ve been harmless. Just part of the job. Just another pose from the set.
But it wasn’t.
The memory came back in full, uninvited:
The soft give of Hokuto’s lips under his. The sudden stillness in the room.
The way Hokuto leaned in, not away.
Taiga’s stomach tightened. He told himself it was just acting. He told himself they’d both been caught in the moment. That it meant nothing.
But the part of him that kept replaying it.
Over and over, slower each time. Knew that was a lie.
And in the quiet of his room, to no one but the fabric against his lips, he whispered,
“Why’d you have to kiss me like you meant it?”
The silence that followed didn’t answer him.
But the ache did.
Hokuto couldn’t sleep.
He’d showered twice, letting the water run hot enough to sting and his hair damp against his forehead, hoping it would wash away the heat still clinging to his skin. It clung stubbornly, like a second skin he couldn’t peel off. It didn’t go away. If anything, it made him remember more. How close they’d been, how easy it was to forget they weren’t supposed to be.
His phone rested beside him on the mattress, screen dark. He hadn’t texted Taiga, because he didn’t dare.
Instead, he stared at the ceiling and let the scene play out again in his head, every detail refusing to blur.
Not the director’s voice saying, “Perfect. That’s the one.”
Not the manager sighing as he watched them sulk in the van.
Just Taiga.
The weight of Taiga’s palm against his chest.
The uneven catch in his breathing.
The split second when their lips met and the whole world seemed to tilt.
And then, the way Taiga didn’t move.
The way his lips parted, almost like an answer.
The way his eyes looked afterward. Wide, unguarded, like he was afraid of something that might be real.
Hokuto turned onto his side, gripping his pillow tighter until his knuckles ached. It didn’t help. The moment stayed with him, stubborn and clear, like it was etched into the inside of his skull.
He reached for his phone, thumb hovering over Taiga’s name. He should text him. He should say something. He should —
The screen lit up.
A message from Jesse:
‘Bro. You good?’
He stared at it for a full minute. Then turned the phone face-down.
And whispered into the dark, to no one but himself,
“I don’t know.”