This pairing has taken over my brain. TohRyu should not be any Gravi fan's OTP, yet...
It's my first Gravi fic and I'm not sure that the Tohma characterisation is precisely on target. It works, I think, especially if you take into account that this is set way pre-series, before New York and before Tohma meets Mika, even. But Nittle Grasper are relatively famous.
Tohma returns to the dressing room after the performance, his face flushed with success and something else. It's not his fault, he thinks, Ryuichi on stage would give a monk a hard-on – but he takes one look at Ryuichi sitting on the table, swinging his legs and telling Kumagorou excitedly about the show and knows that that excuse isn't good enough.
He looks closer, at the beaming mouth glistening with gloss and stares into those eyes, dark and outlined sharply in kohl and refuses to want, because Ryuichi is never the same person two hours running. He's used to that, as a friend, as a colleague, able to tolerate the singsong mental immaturity, even smile fondly at it. As a lover, however…
What kind of man would kiss a childish pout before an intense, adult mouth? Tohma knows he's not the most stable of people – and who is, in Tokyo, where neon lights flare on every street corner and people dance the way to their own destruction? – but he doesn't think he's deranged enough that he'd do that. Doesn't think that Ryuichi would like it, at least off-stage, assuming he'd even understand what Tohma was about. He'd probably whine at Tohma to kiss Kumagorou as well, or instead, so that Kuma-chan wouldn't feel left out.
Tohma smiles at Ryuichi and walks over to add his piece to Kumagorou's bedtime story. The sunny grin, those bright eyes – they belong to a friend – his dearest friend. And even if Tohma's eyes linger a little too long on the slim legs encased in tight, black leather, on the mesh shirt that stretches a bit too far over Ryuichi's slender chest – well, so do a million fans'.
And who could begrudge them that?