It's always the same.
He wakes to a mouthful of turquoise hair and tanned limbs thrown everywhere. He's trapped, a muscled leg hitched around his waist and an arm lies on his chest effectively limiting his movements. He sighs, only half-exasperated.
The boy sleeping next to him is still lightly snoring. The slivers of sunlight that escape the blinds highlight his face, emphasizing all of his pretty features. He's beautiful. Handsome. Soft and boyish in all the right places, angular and mature in all the others. The light dances on his brightly colored hair, creating a halo of sorts. It suits him.
Ren slowly commits the image to memory. He takes note of every hair out of place, the ethereal way the other boy's skin seems to shimmer under the morning light, the barely-there freckles decorating his chest, he even memorizes the rhythm of his breathing. His chest swells to bursting at each new detail. The boy sighs again, this time in self-annoyance. Gods, when did he get so soft?
He shakes his head as he uses the tip of his index finger to trace the other boy's lightly freckled collarbone. He travels up, up, up towards his neck and ends at his chin. He holds his finger there for awhile, admiring the other boy's face once again. He's too damn pretty for his own good. The ass.
Ren gently untangles himself from the other boy before he leans over to kiss him.
He starts at his forehead and moves on to his cheeks, his nose, temples, eyelids. Butterfly kisses, light. Sweet. He begins a rhythm, forehead-cheeks-nose-temples-eyelids, ceasing the pattern only to leave love-bites on his collarbone. The other boy stirs quickly, the nips at his collar slowly but surely pulling him out of his slumber. He exhales, a sleepy huff of amusement.
"You just couldn't wait for me to get up, huh?" His voice is husky with the weight of sleepiness and Ren resists a shiver. Instead, he rolls his eyes dismissively.
"You should be thanking me. If I don't wake you, you'll sleep until late afternoon." They're chest to chest now, heads level and eyes locked in silent affection. "Don't be ungrateful, idiot." There is no bite behind his words though, none of its normal pretentiousness. His words never have quite the same effect in the morning, Ren realizes. He really is becoming quite the sap.
Horohoro laughs. A weightless, sweet sound. It stirs a storm of butterflies within the pit of Ren's stomach. "I never said I didn't appreciate it. He flashes an easy smile, pretty white teeth complimenting his shock of blue hair. "So what's for breakfast, honey. I'm starving." On cue, a startling rumble comes from his belly and he laughs as Ren forcefully pushes him away, features scrunched in disgust.
"You are a heathen," Ren starts and Horo laughs even louder, head hanging off the edge of the bed. "And what did I tell you about pet names?"
"That they're cute and motivating."
"That's not what I said."
"It was close," Horo responds. He's sitting up now, leaning back against the headboard. He's fished his sweatshirt from somewhere and tugs it on, messy hair becoming even messier after pulling it on. "I was thinking about pancakes actually. You?"
"I don't care," Ren answers. Horohoro nods enthusiastically and hops off the bed to start towards the kitchen. He's almost a good foot away when he's yanked back forcefully. He falls back against the bed roughly, but pillows and bedding soften the tumble. His head lands in Ren's lap, he sits with his legs crossed, hands and thighs pillowing Horo's head.
"Don't use all of the milk. I haven't sent the help to restock the kitchen," Ren leans over and plum colored hair just barely brushes against the other boy's face. It's quiet again.
Topaz meets onyx irises and Ren feels another surge of warmth sweep over his entire body, from the inside out. He lets his eyes shut as Horo reaches up to tangle his hands in his hair. He leans into the touch, letting loving hands take care of him, soothe him. It's still a sort of new feeling, Ren thinks. Being at peace, like this, is something he's still growing used to. There is a tiny part of him, very tiny but still large enough to matter, that is scared. Good things, great things, don't seem to last very long.
He's so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice that Horohoro has stopped raking his hands through his hair.
"You're worried about something." Ren opens his eyes slowly, a bit dazed, and meets the other boy's eyes again. "You have a tell," Horo says, as way of explanation and Ren smirks.
"I do not."
"You do. And you think you're going to use your mumbo-jumbo, reverse psychology, rich kid schooling to get me to spill but I'm not. I'm smarter than you, Tao."
Ren rolls his eyes and Horo laughs softly. "I see."
"What's wrong, though?" Horo's face betrays the worry that his voice expertly conceals. Guilt almost swallows Ren whole.
He swallows thickly before replying, the white lie he's about to tell already weighs heavily on his tongue. "I'm worried that you'll butcher breakfast and leave me with only a drop of milk," Horo opens his mouth to speak but Ren cuts him off. "It's a serious matter. You're an idiot and you can't cook."
Horohoro blinks slowly, twice, before erupting into laughter. Ren breathes a quiet sigh of relief.
"You've got a real stick up your ass, dude. You know you could just, like… walk to the market and get some more milk?" He smiles up at Ren, innocent exuberance and the plainness of love written clear across his face. "We can go later. After breakfast. We've got forever, babe. Relax."
Ren inhales sharply.
We've got forever.
"You think so?"
"Duh. What time do you think it is anyway?"
Ren smiles.
It's always the same scene.
He doesn't know why his mind loves replaying the same memory every time he sleeps. It's becoming disheartening.
Horohoro hasn't been around for awhile now.
His sister is dating a hot-shot environmentalist with global ties to wildlife agencies and rich men waiting to throw their money at the next big eco-activist. It was only smart to take advantage of the opportunity and start campaigning for the restoration of Hokkaidō's native Butterbur fields worldwide.
It didn't sting any less though.
Sometimes Ren thinks he's being a bit overdramatic. He talks to Horo just about everyday. They text somewhat constantly and every two days they talk on the phone. Sometimes if there is an emergency or an exciting bit of news, they'll break pattern, but that's the general routine. It's not the same, not at all, but he can deal with it.
He's been through so, so much more than a case of bad heartache. So he can suck it up and focus on other things.
And he does, usually. He's never been more thankful for deciding to stay in Tokyo. It's easy to forget your own issues when you're running behind Yoh and Manta almost everyday. He spends so much time watching (read: participating in) their zany misadventures that he decides that the pair are actually three-dimensional 90's cartoon characters. Horo's favorite story thus far is the time Manta accidentally angered the ghost of a librarian while walking Yoh and Ren through how ineffective the Dewey Decimal System actually is. Coincidentally, (or maybe not so coincidentally) if Ren had to pick their worst adventure to date, it would be that one. By day's end he had written out three different checks to cover the damage dealt from the entire ordeal and the three of them are now banned from Tokyo's public library system for the next fifteen years.
Ren truly, totally, wholeheartedly hates that story with his entire being but whenever Horohoro hears it, he laughs for hours on end.
(So maybe he doesn't completely hate it.)
It gets tiring palling around with those idiots all the time, though, so other times he'll run errands with Anna. She's actually not too bad when she's not beating Yoh into a bloody pulp. She's actually not bad at all.
Ren thinks, despite all of her brutish tendencies, she's more like Yoh than most people realize.
He never actually volunteers to go on outings with her. She always insists, a little threateningly, that he withdraw from Yoh and Manta's cartoonish shenanigans to accompany her. Ren isn't dumb enough to think that Anna only accidentally happens to plan these outings on days that he's feeling especially heartsick or upset. They're both too smart for such illusions. So Ren knows that Anna knows that he knows it's no accident and Anna knows that Ren knows that she is more of a friend than she's willing to admit, but at the end of the day, when they're both walking through the streets of Tokyo and laughing at some Shaman Tournament memory or expertly haggling prices at an open market or joining forces to rescue Yoh's idiot ass from trouble, it doesn't really matter. She's good company either way.
So Ren does try to occupy himself. He spends most of his days with the Funbari Onsen crew, he trains with Bason, and some days, when he's in the mood, he'll write to Chocolove or Lyserg.
No matter what he does, though, he'll always go to sleep and dream the same dream, a memory from the previous summer, and want to rip his own heart out.
He feels gross.
He brought in the new year with the Funbari Onsen gang and Lyserg and Tamao; the latter two flew in to accept Anna's dinner party invitation. They spent all night eating, dancing, and drinking until Anna got tired of being a host and told everyone to go to sleep or leave.
Ren would've stayed, maybe, if he wasn't sure he would wake up feeling like someone had stomped on his heart. But then again, he wasn't ever really one for parties and sleepovers or things like that. Those kind of things were Horohoro's niche, he usually just tags along due to persuasion from his sister. So he went home in a taxi after tolerating a barrage of drunken goodbye hugs and passed out no sooner than he unbuttoned his coat and found his bedroom.
He's sticky, no doubt from the wine that Ryu was drunkenly sloshing all night, and his forearm throbs dully with pain. Not enough to truly bother him, but enough to give him pause. He sighs. He hates drinking.
He stumbles away from his bed in order to head to the shower and hears the clatter of pots hitting the kitchen floor. He squints in irritation, the sheer level of noise worsening his headache. Jun was always letting herself in, uninvited, to check in on him as if he were still a damned child. He loves her dearly, but what the hell was she doing being so loud and uninvited this early in the morning?
As if on cue, his phone buzzes with Jun's unique ringtone. He reaches for the nightstand where it lies, connected to the charger.
Jun: Happy New Year baby brother! And happy birthday!! We love you! We'll call later!
Ren rolls his eyes, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, but he smiles.
Ren: I love you too.
Ren: Thank you. Happy new year to you as well. Give my well wishes to Pai Long.
Ren: And why will you be calling me later? To apologize for breaking and entering? Get out of my kitchen.
Ren: …Please.
Jun: What are you talking about?
Ren: Don't play dumb Jun. I can hear you.
Jun: Ren.
Jun: I'm at home.
Jun: Home, home. China.
Ren: ………
Ren: This is interesting.
Ren: Okay. We'll talk later then.
Jun: Don't send anyone to the hospital on your birthday Ren. It's not a good way to start the year.
Ren: I won't. It's probably just Yoh. I also gave him a spare key.
Jun: Oh good!
Jun: You pass out keys like candy!
Ren: No.
Ren: Only three people have one.
Ren: I'll call later. I have to go beat up a dolt.
Jun: You're all bark and no bite. (_)
Ren: (-_-)
Ren slowly lumbers over to his bedroom door and wonders why Bason wouldn't think to wake him if Yoh was rummaging around in his goddamned kitchen.
As he steps into the hallway, the smell of pastries overwhelm him. The smell is familiar, but he can't exactly place it. The aroma prompts butterflies within his stomach, his subconscious associating the smell with some unreachable memory. He walks even slower, trying to identify the smell before having the answer revealed to him.
"Are you sure it's made like this? I remember you doing something different the last ti—" Ren raises his eyebrows at the sound of Bason's traitorous voice. He was going to give it to Yoh and then he was going to really give it to—
"Dude! Yes! Listen, I'm, like, a master baker now! There was one dude in the Amazon, who was, like, a fifth-generation bakery owner! So I was all like, 'train me!' And then he was like, 'really?!' And then I was like, 'duh, bro!' And the rest was history! Now, like I said, I'm a master baker!"
Ren's breath hitches in his chest. The butterflies in his stomach multiply and he finally recognizes the familiar sweet smell. Haskapp berries. Native to Hokkaidō. His eyes sting.
God, he's really hungover. He's having really weird visions. His subconscious must really have it out for him. He's never heard of hangovers consisting of weird mirages, but there's a first time for everything.
He hates drinking.
"Young master! Happy birth—"
"Ren's up?!"
There is yet another clatter of pots and almost immediately Horohoro rounds the corner, spiky blue hair hidden under an obnoxious baker's hat and sporting a bright yellow apron decorated with the words 'KISS THE COOK' in pink, cursive lettering. Ren snorts. What an ass.
He knows that this is a weird, drunken dream or something, but Horo would actually wear something tacky like that. There are so many better options he can think of though. He wonders if Dream-Horo has to stay tacky to stay true to his real life counterpart, or if his own subconscious can render him with better style.
Before he can ask, he's tackled. The other boy literally leaps at him, wrapping his arms around his waist, messing with Ren's equilibrium and effectively knocking him to the ground.
"Ren! I missed you!" They're sprawled on the floor, Dream-Horo on top of him and pressing all of his weight against Ren. He struggles to breathe comfortably as he looks up at the other boy. He's prettier than he's ever been in any of his other dreams. His dark eyes sparkle with affection and there is a pang of longing in Ren's chest.
"I miss you too. All the time," Ren says softly, voice pathetically sad. He almost doesn't recognize his own voice. "Your dumbass should actually be here." Horo looks confused, eyes wide and head tilted at a questioning angle. "Asakura threw a huge party. Ryu was missing his partner-in-crime. Tamao asked about you too."
There is a brief silence. Ren spies Bason hovering some distance away looking just as confused as Horohoro.
"Are you… drunk still?" Dream-Horo asks. Ren rolls his eyes.
"Well, that's why you're here, yes? I can't sleep without dreaming about you and now I can't even drink without waking up to drunken mirages of you ruining my kitchen. This is embarrassing. Literally unbearable. Just come the hell home. I can't do it anymore." Ren pushes the other boy off of him, easily, because the turquoise-haired boy has been stunned into obedience, and sits up.
"Ren," Horohoro starts after another long pause, "This isn't a dream. Dude. Do the dream test."
"'The dream test,'" Ren repeats unbelievingly. "And what's that? Enlighten me."
Horo laughs. "You are toasted." Ren scrunches his nose in irritation and Horo laughs some more. "Just pinch yourself. Real hard. 'Cause, ya know, you can't hurt yourself in a dream. So if it doesn't hurt you're sleeping, but if it does you're awake. Easy. The dream test."
Ren's eyebrows almost touch his hairline. "Really?"
"Really."
Ren holds out his injured forearm. He pinches it. Hard.
It hurts. A lot.
Oh.
"Well," Ren begins, and he can feel his cheeks heating up while Horohoro starts giggling like a goddamn child. "Stop it! Asakura basically made me participate in their barbaric drinking games! My head is still swimming! Unlike you idiots, since I have class, I don't happen to drink like a fish. Which easily expla—"
"You dream about me, Ren?"
Ren wonders if his face is as red as he thinks it is. "Only sometimes. Don't flatter yourself."
Horohoro smirks. It irritates Ren and warms him at the same time. "I won't push it today. Since it's your birthday and all. But you're lying."
"Am not."
"You have a tell," Horo replies, waving his hand dismissively. He slowly slides over to Ren, gliding over the wooden floors. "I missed you too. A lot. It was…" His eyes roll towards the ceiling in thought. "It was… I was heartsick. I think. I don't know. I'm not good with words."
"Yes. You sound stupid," Ren replies, but he completely understands. How could he not?
Horo laughs. "Yeah, I know. But now I don't have to worry about sounding smart all the time. We finished the campaign."
"You're three months early," Ren responds skeptically.
"Yeah, we knocked a few places off the trail. A lot of political mumbo jumbo went down. I don't know. I'm not complaining though." He leans into Ren's personal space. They're nose to nose. Ren's breath hitches.
"I missed you."
"Yes. We've established that."
"Don't be mean."
"I'm not. Kiss me."
A pleasant sort of deja vú overcomes Ren as Horohoro leaves featherlight kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, temples, and eyelids. Horo reaches up to cup his face and he leans into the touch. Muscle memory.
He's dazed and his eyelids are heavy by the time Horo finally decides to kiss him fully on the mouth. Both boys sink into the kiss just as naturally as they would have nine months ago. They're still in sync, there are no gaps to fill, no missing pieces. And when Horo opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, Ren can't resist a smile. He still tastes like spearmint and wild berries.
It's always the same.
Ren pulls away first. He's overcome with affection seeing Horo's flushed face, the pink of his cheeks complimenting the faint red of his kiss-swollen lips. The Ainu boy looks slighted and confused, his face resting in a pout.
"Come back."
"Did you finish making breakfast?" Ren asks, ignoring the other boy's dazed plea. "And did you mess up my kitchen? It sounded like it was raining pots and pans earlier." Ren pushes himself off the floor and stands, hovering over Horo.
"No. Yes. And I only dropped two skillets, don't be a drama queen, hon." Horo leans against the wall now, still sitting, with his baker's hat and apron still neat and in place.
Ren kicks at him. "No pet names."
"They're cute."
"They are not."
Horo shrugs and gives him an impish grin. "You'll get used to them."
With a roll of his eyes, Ren turns away from him and stumbles towards the bathroom. "I expect breakfast to be ready by the time I'm done showering."
Horohoro stands up after that, understanding now that the moment is over. "Wooooow. Your extremely handsome and charismatic eco-activist boyfriend returns after nine months of tirelessly traveling the world fighting for peace, love, and trees and as soon as he gets back you make him slave over a loveless stove? You're cold, Ren."
"My extremely stupid and annoying boyfriend actually volunteered himself for the job by sneaking into my house. Right, Bason?"
"…Uh," Bason replies intelligently.
"Exactly," Ren finishes with a smirk. Before Horohoro can respond he begins again. "Seriously, though, I'm sticky, my head is pounding, and I can still taste last night's liquor. I'm in desperate need of a trip to the washroom."
Horo pouts again, like he hasn't heard anything that was just said, and Ren wonders if he's actually stupid or just spoiled. "But I just got back!"
"Mhm. But we have forever," Ren says softly, voluntarily replaying the memory that's been torturing him every night for over half a year.
"You think so? It's your birthday and I was thinking you'd wa—"
"We do," Ren asserts firmly, walking into the bathroom. "There's no rush."
He turns his head to regard Horo one last time before he starts his shower. "We have forever and an entire morning. What time do you think it is anyway?"