Suddenly Makoto swings his fist in a wide arc and connects with the jaw in front of him. The boy crumples to the ground, blood spurting forth like a fountain and Haru is slightly terrified at the pure anger in those deep green eyes.
Makoto has never been one for confrontation. Despite his size, he has an amiable presence that puts just about anyone at ease. Haru thinks to himself that this must be why all those cats hang around the house. It's because he can't say no. And Haru can't say no to Makoto.
It's the start of the second term and Iwatobi swim club has been training hard to make it to regionals...this time without getting disqualified. Life has an easygoing pace about it now that things with Rin are back to normal. Gou has even managed to schedule some joint practices with Samezuka and on those days Haru has the mindset that he can't lose.
He still doesn't care about improving his time or anything but being able to swim with Rin again-with all his friends again-has given him a new mindset.
Another change has occurred as well. In the hotel room that night he had told Makoto that he appreciated him being there. So many other words flowed beneath that sentence. Maybe it was because he had been driven out of his comfort zone, or the fact that he may have never swim with Rin again; whatever it was, spurred him into realizing that he did need Makoto.
It starts out as gentle brushes of fingers as they walk back home, brushing of lips in the confines of each others bedrooms, and slowly turns in to heavy petting and heated moans. Haru remembers the first time he truly and completely has Makoto, feels all his walls crumble as calloused hands fist his cock and murmur sweet words in his ear.
Their relationship doesn't go unnoticed throughout the town. Makoto is worried at first when Haru first threads their fingers together on the walk home but most people already had their suspicions to begin with.
The old grandma that live right across the street always make sure to give them extra bread she has baked. The school, although the girls are crestfallen at first, quickly dub them the 'Residential Married Couple.'
"I don't know where in the world they got that name," Makoto murmurs.
"It's because Mako-chan always acts like a nervous housewife when Haru is distressed." Nagisa laughs when Makoto makes a small 'eh' in protest.
Of course their friends have been supportive. Gou tells them it is about time and that they have better not let any 'private' business interfere with practice. Haru thinks Makoto's brains fried just then.
Nagisa winks at them like he knew all along. Hell, maybe he did. He is the nosy type, after all. Rei murmurs something along the lines of 'beautiful' and Rin is probably the most surprised out of the group.
"It's not surprising that you didn't notice!" Gou scolded. "You've been so obsessed with winning that you've neglected your friends."
Rin tsks and palms the back of his head. "Well...you know...good luck."
Everything is perfect for a while. Every afternoon they practice until Makoto forcefully has to drag Haru from the pool. Afterwards they go to Makoto's house-sometimes Haru's if they are in the mood, which is often-and usually curl up in each others arms playing a game or watching tv.
Not everyone is as accepting of their relationship, though. Haru's fingers are entwined through Makoto's, as usual, when a deep voice rings out, "Fucking queers."
A cold, melting sensation floods through his stomach as he turns to where the voice has come. A second year that he doesn't recognize slouches against the wall and glares at them. Makoto has gone rigid, his grip tightening into one of almost pain.
He forces a smile onto his face and tugs at Haru's hand. "Just ignore it."
And they do. The incident passes and for over a week they walk home in peace. But again they are caught walking home, hand in hand, when the voice rings out again.
"You two make me fucking sick. How can you be so disgusting?" A sickening smirk is thrown their way and that feeling is back in the pit of Haru's stomach again. He wonders if they truly are disgusting. Since he and Makoto have been together, they have encountered nothing but support. True there are some surprised glances thrown their way but nothing of the magnitude of this boy's words.
He isn't so naive as to think that the whole world is like Iwatobi. He knows the stigma that the two of them carry but the words are surprising all the same.
Just like last time, Makoto is the one to force a smile and usher them away. But as they continue towards the house, Haru notices that his jaw is clenched and his usual cheery gaze is hazed over.
Haru tries to shut the words out at night when Makoto kisses him. But the knot in his stomach is still there and the warmth that Makoto's kisses usually bring are now stagnant. Makoto, who can read him like a book, notices and just ends up wrapping his arms around him and burying him in his body heat.
He tries to soak in the pool to forget. But the words bleed through all the same.
Disgusting.
It's a stark contrast to how he sees he and Makoto. To him, the relationship has always been a constant-platonic or not. He needs Makoto like he does water. And he knows it is the same for the other half. Both depend on the other for so many things that it would be like stumbling around in the dark if the other were to be separated.
Disgusting.
How can that word even be applied?
The next few walks home, Haru does not take Makoto's hand. Although the burden doesn't register on his face, Makoto senses it all the same and makes no move to invade his space. He goes to his own house, grills mackerel and laments in the tub.
This continues for a week, Haru just basking in his inner troubles and Makoto letting him be, until the weather turns a bit nippy and the absent warmth of his partner's hand makes his fingers tingle.
As if on cue, Makoto rubs his palms together and says, "My palms sure are freezing."
And those words are all it takes for Haru to reach over and lace his fingers through that familiar presence. Makoto smiles and even though he shows nothing, he is to.
Stupid.
To let someone's cruel and idiotic words enter his thoughts and niggle there.
The rest of the way to the house is met with pleasant silence. Until the figure descends into their presence again, staring like a carnivorous hawk.
Makoto fixes him with a vicious gaze, one in which Haru thought he incapable of making.
The boy smirks at the green eyed teen, then turns his attention towards Haru.
His mouth forms a single word. 'Faggot.'
Makoto lunges forward, fist swinging back in a wide arc and connects with the jaw in front of him. The boy staggers, catches himself, and then Makoto is flung to the ground; his head connecting with the hardened concrete. It connects with a sickening thud. There is blood everywhere. And Haru can't tell if it's Makoto's or the other kid. All he knows is there's a lot of it and that this shouldn't be happening.
A fist smashes into Makoto's nose. His arm comes up bloody. He's about to bring it down again but Haru suddenly finds himself and is on the boy in an instant.
They crash to the ground and Haru manages to pry him off him, although not before landing a low blow to his ribcage.
Several passerbys have stopped and are now staring at the scene. The boy gives a tsk of annoyance, then staggers off.
As soon as he's out of sight, Haru scrambles over to Makoto, who's doubled over, clutching his nose.
"Makoto," he can hear the desperation in his voice but he can't care less. Damn, there's so much blood...
He pries Makoto's hands away and beholds the bloody mess before him. He rips off his shirt and quickly starts to dab at the wound.
"Sorry, sorry," Makoto mumbles.
"What are you sorry for, silly?"
He pulls the shirt away and a blubbering Makoto crashes into him.
"It all happened so fast and I caused so much trouble for Haru."
"You're the one with the bloody nose."
Makoto waves Haru's school shirt, which is now stained crimson, in response.
"Don't worry about it."
He continues to apply pressure to the area and manages to suppress the bleeding just a fragment.
He remembers those cold eyes that he witnessed just before Makoto had hit that boy. So scary...not Makoto's eyes. He is 185cm but the fact that he is afraid of his own shadow makes Haru forget sometimes that Makoto can hurt if he wants to. But Makoto never wants to hurt anyone. Yet he did...
"Those cruel words. I couldn't forgive them. They were the reason Haru stopped holding my hand. He made Haru doubt himself."
"Makoto..."
When will he learn to stop being so surprised that this man knows him so well?
He hoists Makoto up onto his shoulder and leads him to his house where he nurses his wounds. Later they curl up into each other and those cruel words aren't there anymore. Because they don't matter. He loves this person. That's all he cares about.
