Johan wasn't sure what they were. "Best friends" wasn't quite enough, but "lovers" felt like too much. One year, when it had been on his mind, he'd absentmindedly voiced the thought aloud. Judai had tilted his head, rolling it off Johan's shoulder so they could make eye contact, and he'd smiled quizzically, as though he couldn't understand why Johan was asking this question.
"We're Judai and Johan," he'd replied, as if that were the simple answer Johan had been searching for all these years. And then he'd laced their fingers, squeezing and Johan had accepted it, because he couldn't think of a better answer.
Judai visited every year, always during the tail end of winter. Johan told him every time that he should come in summer or at least early autumn or late spring. Judai didn't like winter and Johan wanted Judai to be able to appreciate his home town.
Judai would always shrug his shoulders. "Don't you want someone here with you when you're cold?"
Their relationship during their time together at the Duel Academy had been different from all Judai's – and in truth, Johan's too – friendships in the past, and it only continued to develop as each year passed. Their touches grew more intimate, handshakes evolving into entwined fingers, hugs into embraces, the distance between them on the couch lessening with each visit before disappearing altogether.
They would nap together on the rug in front of Johan's lit fireplace, legs tangled, arms around one another while the rest of their bodies fit each other like parts of a jigsaw puzzle.
Brief kisses eventually made their way into the routine, and neither asked questions about it. Johan could feel from the way Judai melted against him that it was one way for him to bring them even closer. For Johan, it was another way for him to express the extent of the feelings he harboured for Judai.
The kisses grew bolder over the years, hands began to roam, and eventually all barriers fell away. Johan could feel, the first time they made love on their rug – he thought of it was such now, his and Judai's – that Judai had wanted to do it for a long time. Not because he'd deeply desired Johan or deeply desired the physical act of sex with him (not that he hadn't, of course, but those hadn't been what drove the need). Rather, and Johan was quite aware of this fact, Judai's favoured method of expressing love – perhaps the only method he really knew – was to get as close to that person as possible.
It was how he'd shown his love to Yubel. And while he could never achieve that with Johan, this was as close as he could get. So two years in a row, they had only ever made love in front of the fireplace, but after that, the year before they both turned 25, they'd tangled together in bed, bitter wind blowing outside the window while Judai slid inside Johan. They could never fuse spiritually, not in the way Judai had with Yubel, but physically and emotionally was more than enough.
Afterwards, they'd held hands and exchanged lazy kisses, giggling between each one for no reason other than that they were happy.
This year was no different. 8 years had passed since Judai had begun travelling the world; since he'd started to visit Johan every February. They were both 27 now, and Johan was no closer to knowing what they were to one another. He loved Judai and Judai loved him, but there were so many types of love in the world. How could he possibly know what the one between them was?
It was snowing heavily when Judai arrived this year. He came in with flushed cheeks, skin red and shiny from the cold, and entered with an automatic 'ojamashimasu' that he'd never been able to shake, despite so much time outside of Japan.
"You look like you're freezing," Johan told him, barely giving Judai a chance to unlace and removed his boots before he dragged him closer by the thick scarf around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
"Johan." Judai gave him a smile that said not to play coy and caught his cheek with a gloved hand, drawing his face back and pressing their lips together meaningfully.
Johan's nose wrinkled with a grin when they broke apart. He liked teasing, and Judai's amused exasperation only encouraged him.
"Come into the living room. Are you thirsty?"
"Hungry, actually, but if you've got any tea…"
Johan waited until Judai was fed and watered before he went about warming him up properly. His scarf had long been discarded, but his jacket had yet to come off. It was closely followed by the rest of his clothes, and then Johan's. Usually, they took it slow, but it had been a year – their first time after Judai's arrival was always a frenzy of touches and kisses and clashing bodies. It had been too long, and neither wanted to take it slow.
Judai's body had changed over the years, muscles more defined from his travels and any lingering baby fat all gone. He'd grown handsome, excruciatingly so, and he probably didn't even know it.
"Johan, I want to feel you," he whispered, voice husky with want, and Johan wouldn't dream of denying him anything as long as he said his name just like that. "I want to feel you inside me."
Johan's breath hitched, and he nodded, cheek brushing against Judai's collarbone.
Usually they favoured face to face when they made love but, once again, their first time of the year was special. Though they couldn't look into one another's eyes, Johan always felt it was more intimate – almost too much so – when they did it like this; draped across Judai's back, arms securely around his middle and lips pressed to his neck, letting him feel rather than see.
It was the most intimate Johan ever was with anyone, and sometimes he thought it was the most intimate he ever would be with anyone. There was no one who could quite compare to Judai. No one who could compare to what Judai was to him. Even if he wasn't sure what that was.
Because even if Johan wasn't sure what they were, even if he sometimes couldn't help wondering, what he did know was that when it came down to it, it didn't matter.