Foray number two into the fandom! This popped into my head a couple days ago, and figured I'd just have to sit down and write the damn thing. And here it is. Be prepared for angst, drama, romance, fluff, smut, plot holes, OOC'ness (likely), GAY. I thought about making this a multi-chaptered story, but I kinda like the idea of the epic one-shot. Either way, read, review, enjoy.
Shawn Bassett.
Almost forgot the usual disclaimer: I do not own anything beyond the plot points, terrible writing and vague allusions. Well, that and their OOC behaviour.
Why
Falling in love with your best friend was never going to be easy. Why did you think his going would be any easier?
Haruka Nanase sat on a rocky outcropping by the sea, lost in thoughts as restless and volatile as the undertow in front of him, his gaze as stony as the landscape. Everything was different, changed somehow from what he thought the world should be. His heart felt as though it was drowning, floundering in the grey matter of a shattered relationship doomed to fail. Foolishly, he'd thought that if he soldiered on and powered through, fearless like he was in the water, things might have worked out.
Having known Makoto Tachibana since he was child, he was the only one Haruka had ever felt truly comfortable around, felt like he was the only one who truly understood and accepted him for who he was. After a time it became simple as to why they had fallen for each other in the first place. Haru thought he wouldn't need, didn't need the comfort of acceptance of one's faults, and how wrong he'd been. Mako had been the embodiment of balance, keeping Haru's keel level through even the toughest of storms. Upon reflection, Haru would likely still be drifting had he not come along. His love was unconventional: being so insular it only made rare appearances, but it was there. And it wasn't enough to keep him.
There were fights. So many fights that left Makoto in tears and to withdraw into himself. And yet, they would still try to patch things up, and Haru would move on while Makoto tended to the wounds inflicted upon his heart in silence. Haru knew he wasn't particularly good at relationships, but even he had to admit after a time that something wasn't right. He was confirmed when he came home one evening to find his and Makoto's stuff separated, with only his left behind. The only thing that wasn't Haru that was left was a note, written on stationery received as a birthday gift a few years past. Small, square and thick was the paper; Makoto's small, neat handwriting in black ink blotched in places by tears.
This is goodbye.
The spray rose up in a fury, reflecting Haru's mood. The salt water hit his face, running down in tracks where tears ought to be. He sat motionless, wind whipping at his clothes and tossing his hair, ever silent.
Makoto was a wreck as he loaded the last of his things into his car. He was shaking violently as he leaned against the passenger side door, trying to calm himself. He was grieving, he knew. Not for this failed relationship, but for the realization of time gone forever; however, he was aware of the small spark of relief at the back of his mind. He couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Having managed the final step in restarting his life, Makoto was gripped by the spark catching and the rush of ignition, feeling every inch a phoenix reborn. His life was his again, and he could have cheered.
Just as he was about to get into the driver's seat, he'd forgotten something he had meant to do before leaving. He walked back into the now-sparsely furnished apartment, noting vaguely that he no longer felt any sort of attachment to this place; that he was essentially an intruder in this life he and Haru once shared. As he walked to the kitchen table for the last time, he wrote three words on the last sheet of stationery his parents gave him for his sixteenth birthday: This is goodbye. He placed his key under the note, and as he braced himself on the table for a moment, he felt something clack on the wood. He looked down at his right hand, wrested the simple band off his middle finger, and put it with the key. He'd only realizing he'd been crying after he left that part of his life, shutting the memories into the apartment behind him. The drive away from Iwatobi had never felt more exhilarating.
Makoto's breakaway move had been months in the making, or at least the attempt to make a break had been. He knew things in his and Haru's relationship weren't perfect, but loads of couples had their ups and downs. Besides, he loved him and that's what mattered, right? This justification lasted for longer than anybody around them would have expected, but they had long suspected something wasn't working.
The pair had always been inseparable, that much was known. Even as children, Haruka and Makoto were always seen together at school, at the pool, playing in the street, running errands, always a perpetual pair. Rin, for one, was always just slightly jealous of their steadfast friendship, and had always harboured a little resentment as a result of it. He couldn't see them not being friends, though: that was just something too far-fetched to imagine. When they had finally started dating, Rin was smug. He'd seen that twist coming a mile off. Nagisa was ecstatic, Rei politely enthusiastic and congratulatory. And for quite some time, everything was perfect.
Haru had found his solace in Mako, and Mako had found someone to dote on and care for. The fondness in Makoto's gaze every time he saw Haru was enough to make everyone take notice that was close to them. Even Haru had started to open up more, smiling more freely and openly, to crack jokes once in a blue moon. They were good for each other.
As time went on, though, fine cracks were starting to show. Haru was closing in on himself again, and Makoto was changing. The differences were subtle, but instead of his eyes being soft with fondness, they were distant and empty. He was quiet, distracted, and becoming insular as well. He would insist he was fine, but Rin could see he was simply trying to cover everything up, trying to be strong and weather through it. He was determined to find an answer.
A couple of months earlier, Mako and Rin had met up over drinks. Beyond their small talk and catching up, Rin was suspicious of Makoto's behaviour as of late and needed to find out what the hell was going on. He was blunt in his approach.
"What's going on between you and Haru?" he asked baldly, as they sat at a small table in a bar, drinks in frosty glasses dripping condensation onto the coasters. His eyes were fixed on Makoto's face, searching for anything that would give Rin a clue.
Makoto's face froze, his eyes closed slightly and lowered to the table, filling with tears and shining in the low light of the bar. His hands slipped off the table and into his lap, twisting in themselves. His shoulders sagged, and he shrunk into himself, trying to make himself as un-noticeable as possible. Rin's eyes widened in shock, his mouth hung open a little. He knew things might not have been going well, but he had no idea that they were this bad.
"Mako," he started, lost for words. He felt his heart clench as Makoto struggled to keep his tears inside, and ultimately failed. Makoto's chest heaved once, and he shoved his chair back, running from the building. Rin threw more than enough money on the table to cover their tab, and ran after him, cursing under his breath. People looked up at the sudden commotion, and returned to their drinks wondering what was going on.
Makoto didn't make it far ourside the door. As Rin caught up to him, he did the only thing he thought would be appropriate and pulled Makoto in against his chest, wrapping both arms securely around him. Makoto was shuddering, almost violently. Rin stayed put, and held him tighter as Makoto's arms wound around him, clutching to his shirt and sobbing quietly into his shoulder. Rin was never one for all those touchy-feely sentiments, but even he had to admit that his best friend really did need a hug right then.
All the while, wheels were turning in his head. He knew Makoto well enough that he was truly, deeply affected by his relationship, and that something needed to be done. And judging by Makoto's state, he knew that damage like this would never be truly fixed.
"Mako, hey," said Rin, after Makoto's sobs had died down, still holding him. "It's OK, I'm here for you. I'm here."
"I know," said Makoto, almost too quiet for Rin to hear over the noise of the street, his tone cementing Rin's resolve.
Rin was a man on a mission as he marched over to Haru and Makoto's apartment, knowing full well Makoto was at work. If looks could kill, Haru would have collapsed as soon as he opened the door. Rin walked in, uninvited, and rounded on Haru, who was impassive as always.
"Rin." It wasn't a greeting, it wasn't friendly.
"How could you do this to him?" raged Rin. "How you could you hurt your best friend like that?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Haru had the nerve to look Rin in the eye, unflinching.
"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Haruka." Haru's eyes finally flashed in recognition. Rin didn't often use Haru's full name, and when he did it was never good.
"I didn't do anything," said Haru, his voice sounding detached.
"You're right, you did nothing. Nothing to make anything right with Makoto. Nothing to put his mind at ease. Nothing to make him feel wanted, or valued. Nothing to make him feel loved," said Rin coldly. "He poured himself out for you, Haru. He gave you his heart, and you did nothing." Rin spat the last word out with venom, his volume rising with his fury and was soon yelling at him. Haru turned away, silent.
"Goddamnit, Haru! Say something for yourself, fucking SAY SOMETHING!" Rin grabbed Haru's shoulder, turning him around and Haru's fist glanced along his jaw. Rin reeled, recovered quickly and landed a blow of his own on Haru's cheek, sending him sprawling him onto the floor. He shook out his right hand, sore from the punch but the adrenaline numbed the throbbing both there and in his jaw. He opened his mouth widely, experimentally. Satisfied his jaw was still in place, he went down to Haru, still on the floor.
"What you did to him is inexcusable. How dare you hurt him? All he did was love you." He stood up, and as he was at the door to leave he said, "If this is how you want to deal with it, fine. Don't go looking for him. Don't contact him. He's better off without you." The door clicked shut, leaving Haru on the floor, holding his cheek, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears.
As Rin walked down the street, angered beyond words, he aimed a furious kick at a discarded pop can, sending it flying far off. He sent a text message to Makoto.
Stay at my place tonight, you can borrow some of my clothes. I have something I want to talk with you about.
K, came Makoto's reply, which was encouraging and worrying in its acceptance. Rin was going to help, even if it killed him.
That night, when Makoto came to Rin's after work, the look on his face was worrying. Once-kind green eyes were lost, dark circles had formed underneath broadcasting a lack of sleep. His hair was dull, unbrushed and hadn't been washed recently. His posture was limp, his clothes hanging off a now too-thin body. He looked awful. Rin had just finished making a pot of tea, and pressed a cup into Mako's cold, pale hands. How deep does this go? thought Rin, as Makoto took the cup automatically. Rin took Makoto over to the couch, and he sat but only on the very edge of the cushion, still looking forlorn.
"How was work?" tried Rin hopefully. Makoto shrugged listlessly.
"OK I guess."
"Just OK?"
"Yeah, boss said for me to take a couple days off, says I look like hell."
"Well, you kinda do, Mako." Makoto turned to look at Rin, but it felt like he was looking through him, not at him. "I want you to stay here for a while, and we'll get to the bottom of what's bugging you."
"That's nice, but I'll be OK." Makoto went back to looking at the cup of tea that was still held loosely in his hands, not making to drink it. Rin took a sip of his own.
"Don't give me that, Makoto. You know I'd do anything for you, and that's what I'm gonna do. We'll make this better."
"You can't make this better, Rin. I got myself into this, I'll deal with it." Makoto's voice held no conviction.
"No, you won't," said Rin firmly. "You never did know when to ask for help. I know you need it, and that's why you're here. Now, I've been thinking of something, and I think it'll do you good." Rin pulled out a notebook, with a neatly planned out calendar, with dates penned in red. "Since you have tomorrow off, we'll keep it that way. The rest of the week, I'm going to help you get back on track and get you back to feeling like yourself."
Rin went through the calendar, pointing at certain dates, and telling Makoto what they'd do. The first thing on the list was getting Makoto out of that apartment and into one of his own. This was the biggest jolt for Makoto, who had no idea Rin was willing to go to such lengths for him. His heart started to hurt, but in a different way. He almost smiled; Rin's uncharacteristic concern was touching. He really had planned everything out, from Makoto staying with him until he found his own apartment to even securing him a job, better than the one he had through an old school connection.
"Are you really okay with this, Rin?" he asked doubtfully.
"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have done it," said Rin bluntly, but not unkindly. "He did something to you, Mako, and there's no way I'm letting my oldest friend hurt like this." His words softened further. "You don't deserve to hurt. You're far too good a person to be treated this way." Makoto withdrew on himself again, his blush finally putting some colour back in his pallid face.
"Thank you," said Makoto quietly, and that was all Rin needed. He wasn't sure he was ready to tell Mako about his confrontation with Haru earlier that day, but he resolved to tell him someday soon, but not right then. Maybe if he asked.
Much to Makoto's surprise, Rin had even reached out to Nagisa and Rei, both of whom Makoto hadn't seen in quite some time, to help him get moved out of the apartment when the time came. They both came prepared each with their cars, and along with Makoto's own they were able to fit everything in and get it all moved out before Haru came back from wherever he was.
They weren't pleased with the way things had turned out between the pair, but were supportive of Rin's ideas and Makoto's decision to follow through with them. They packed quickly and efficiently, Nagisa's cheery disposition helping to bring back Makoto even further and Rei's organizing to make sure everything got moved efficiently. He was still a long ways off from the kind, soft, caring and open person he used to be, but signs of the old Makoto were slowly but surely returning, and Rin cheered internally at every new development.
As he helped Nagisa and Rei load their vehicles with carefully packed boxes, he hopped in with Rei to guide them to Makoto's new apartment in the city, leaving Makoto to say his goodbyes in peace and follow, remembering their conversation from last night.
"Rin?" The question came in the wee hours of the morning, when both Rin and Makoto should have been asleep. Makoto's voice was small in the quiet of Rin's apartment. He felt Makoto settle on the end of his bed.
"Whassit Mako?" Rin's answer was slightly slurred from sleep. "Can't sleep?"
"I was just thinking about tomorrow," said Makoto slowly. "I wonder if you could go ahead of me with Nagisa and Rei, show them where my new place is and I'll follow."
"Sure, but why? If you don't mind me asking," added Rin, hastily.
"I just wanted to say goodbye to my good memories at least. It wasn't always bad," he finished quietly.
Rin didn't know what to say for a moment, feeling his heart clench at Makoto's request. He'd rather he got out of there as soon as he could, but Mako was closing a whole chapter in his life. Of course he'd want to say goodbye to the good stuff.
"S-sure, no problem. Just don't fall too far behind, kay? Now get to sleep, we've got a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow."
"Thanks again, Rin. For… for everything."
"Anytime. G'night Mako, and get some sleep," said Rin, already drifting back to sleep. He felt Mako's weight shift off the mattress, and heard him pad barefoot back to the spare bedroom.
Makoto drove to his new apartment in a euphoric haze, feeling suddenly lightened and freed from the burden he didn't know he'd been shouldering. He had the car stereo on too loudly, and sang along until he was hoarse. It felt so good to be free again. He pulled up to his building to see Nagisa, Rei and Rin had almost finished unloading the first two cars. Mako parked, and practically bounded out of the car to their surprise, a fresh new smile on his face. It looked almost foreign after seeing him so distraught before. Rin simply set down the box he was carrying and pulled Makoto into a hug.
"It's good to have you back, MakoMako," said Rin into his shoulder, eyes bright with tears, and Makoto couldn't help but grin harder at the pet name Rin hadn't used since they were children. Soon, Nagisa had worked his way into the fold, tugging a startled Rei in with him.
"Welcome home, Mako-chan!" said Nagisa, wrapping his arms around Makoto's middle. "You need to smile more, I like you best when you're smiling!"
"Now this is beautiful," mused Rei, with a fond smile. Makoto's heart was threatening to burst, thankful to be surrounded by friends like these.
"Thank you all so much, I don't know what I would have done without you," said Makoto, crying again, smile still on his face. He sniffed. "And thank you again, Rin. This means the world to me. You gave me my life back." Rin just nodded, not trusting himself to speak, lest he get even more caught up in emotion.
"Now let's get you settled in."
"Yeah!"
Makoto had taken to his comfortable new life quite happily. His apartment was plenty spacious, with lots of natural light for him to enjoy. His new job was fulfilling, and a great fit for him. His boss was thrilled with his performance, saying he couldn't thank Rin enough. He saw more of his friends lately than he had in what felt like years, and felt all the closer to them as a result. He was truly the happiest he'd felt in a long time, and couldn't get enough of the feeling of his new-found freedom.
He'd taken to breaking out of his comfort zone: trying new restaurants, making friends at work, going to amusement parks with Nagisa, attending concerts and gallery openings with Rei, enjoying lazy days off with Rin at the recreational centre swimming pool. Moving to the city was the beginning of a new life, a time for Makoto to spread his wings and flourish and as his self-confidence began to rebuild, people took notice. People were attracted to his kindness, his easy smile a permanent fixture on his face once again, his soft, sweet eyes and gentle demeanour.
One such person had noticed Makoto as he was browsing through a used record store looking for a few new albums to play over the weekend. As he was bent over the racks, another shopper had bumped into him, setting his box off-kilter and causing the other person to nearly drop it.
"Please, let me," urged Makoto, rushing to help the stranger with the box. It was heavy, and full of old vinyl records. With the box steady and upright, Makoto smiled at the young man who had brought it in, a tall red-headed fellow with eyes the colour of liquid honey who was blushing rather furiously.
"Sorry, I should have been looking where I was going," he said, as he made to set the box on the counter. "Thanks for the help though!" He smiled sheepishly.
"Anytime," said Makoto. "It happens to the best of us." His attention turned to the rather large box on the counter. "That's quite the collection," he remarked, eyebrows raised a little.
"Did you want to go through it? There might be something you'd like in there," the stranger offered, pulling open the box flaps further to give Makoto a better view of its contents.
"Are you sure? Aren't you going to sell these?" Makoto didn't want to take anything that could have been potentially valuable to the young man.
"Hey, you kept me from dropping the box, it's the least I could do," he said, blushing a little again and running his hand through his bright red hair. "I doubt they're worth much anyway."
"If you insist," said Makoto. "And since you're offering, then at least allow me to take you out to lunch or something." He smiled again at the young man, who was looking back at him, wide-eyed. "I'm Makoto by the way."
"S-seijuurou," he stammered out, still rather red in the face, and rubbing the back of his head, looking slightly off to the side. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," said Makoto, happily. "Now, let's see if you have anything interesting…"
Makoto spent the next fifteen minutes poring over Seijuurou's box of records, pulling out the occasional album and enthusing over its production values, or the artist's musical genius, or even just to admire the cover art.
"You really do have quite the collection, you know. Why are you letting it go?" questioned Makoto, genuinely curious.
"The previous tenant actually left them behind, and I have no use for them," said Seijuurou shrugging. "I had no idea people actually still listened to these."
"Do you see any that you like out of these?" asked Makoto. "If there's any that catch your fancy, pull it out, come over and we'll listen to them," he offered with a smile. Seijuurou's golden eyes widened.
"You'd do that for me?" he asked, surprised at Makoto's suggestion. He nodded. "Wow, thanks! I recognize a few, but I never really looked at them too much." Seijuurou would pull out a record, show it to Makoto and he would give little tidbits of information.
"This was the first time the band ever recorded with this lineup and the first time they'd recorded in this particular studio. This, and their next album afterwards, was the one that propelled them into mainstream media, and then they fell apart amidst drama and romantic relationships in the band," enthused Makoto, as Seijuurou asked about a particular album.
"How do you know so much about these things?" asked Seijuurou, fascinated. Makoto just blushed, shrugged, and said, "I read a lot of articles and stuff, I guess it just sticks in there. I'm convinced that once I remember too many things, other important stuff will start leaking out. I probably don't even remember how to do long division anymore," he finished, laughing. Seijuurou joined in, and Makoto enjoyed his hearty guffaw and broad smile.
"Well, I think I've been through everything," he said. "And between what you and I wanted, we might as just take the box with us," he finished wryly. "Besides, the stuff we don't know about might be really cool!" Suddenly turning serious, he turned back to look at Seijuurou. "Are you sure you're fine with this? I mean, this is a lot of records."
Seijuurou just held up his hands. "Absolutely. It's a gift, and that's an end of it," he said, resolute on his decision, but with a shy smile on his face. "Are you sure you don't mind letting me come over to listen to some of these?"
"I don't mind one bit. I'll even cook you dinner, if you like," offered Makoto, feeling slightly bashful at being so forward.
"You know, I suck at cooking. It'd be nice to have a home-cooked meal for once," mused Seijuurou as Makoto hefted the box out of the store and into the trunk of his car, apologizing to the shopkeeper for not having bought anything.
"Well, I'm just learning, but I'm making good progress according to my mom," said Makoto, laughing along with Seijuurou at his comment. "You're welcome to be the judge of that, if you like."
"You, sir, have a deal."
Makoto brought Seijuurou into his apartment, giving him the short grand tour after setting the heavy box of records on the floor. As they wound up back in the living room, Seijuurou went to the box and fished out the first record, asking if Makoto wouldn't mind playing it.
"Good choice," said Makoto, lifting the dust cover off his turntable. He wiggled the record down on the spindle, moved the arm over and watched the stylus float lazily into the groove. There was a crackle as the needle made contact with the surface of the record, and music filled the space. Makoto made his way to the couch, followed by Seijuurou, who sat down next to Makoto, watching the record turn with wide eyes.
"It's been years since I've heard this song," he said wistfully. "It's my mom's favourite."
"I can see why, it's gorgeous," said Makoto, earning a blush from Seijuurou as he fidgeted on the couch, staring at his hands and enjoying the music.
"Not half as gorgeous as you," mumbled Seijuurou, his words lost in the crescendo of the song. Makoto didn't hear, and Seijuurou was both disappointed and grateful at the same time, not knowing if Makoto would be interested in him like that anyway. They sat in silence as the song finished.
"Is there anything you'd like to hear on this one?" asked Makoto, during the song's fadeout. Seijuurou shook his head, and Makoto lifted the arm from the record, took it from the platter and put it back in the sleeve. As the next track started, Seijuurou's curiousity got the better of him.
"I honestly have no idea how a needle like that on a record can make that much sound."
"It's magic," said Makoto in a teasing tone, wiggling his fingers like a Vaudeville performer. Seijuurou elbowed him in the ribs, smiling.
"Come on, do you know how they work?" he asked, looking genuinely interested.
"I do, but do you really wanna hear the whole boring story?" asked Makoto, doubtful that anyone would want to actually hear him ramble about records.
"Well, I wouldn't have asked otherwise, now would I?" said Seijuurou, raising a challenging eyebrow. Makoto had to give it to him there.
"Well, the gist of it is that the record itself has the music pressed into it in the shape of grooves. The stylus traces those grooves, which makes tiny little movements in the cartridge. The cartridge develops a tiny electrical signal from the movement of the stylus, which then is made louder by the amplifier and gets set out to the speakers," said Makoto, talking with his hands and making mental notes to make sure he didn't get too into it and rush his explanation. Seijuurou was nodding throughout, his attention rapt.
"So basically, that record has the songs' soundwaves in the grooves?" asked Seijuurou, surprising Makoto quite a bit. Usually whenever he launched into something like that, peoples' eyes glassed over and they zoned out. He was happy that Seijuurou was actually interested for a change.
"Yeah, actually. That's pretty much exactly what it is," he said, happy he had a willing audience.
"You must really love this stuff," said Seijuurou. "You're so into it, it's like you lit up just then when you were telling me about how they work," he continued. "And I thought it was really cute." Now it was Makoto's turn to blush, feeling immensely flattered. As they continued to talk, it was quite some time before either of them realized the record had finished.
"So you used to swim in high school, too?" asked Seijuurou over a simple supper of pork chops and rice that Makoto had made. Seijuurou's eyes fluttered shut as he took a bite of pork and moaned a little. "And don't you tell me you're just learning to cook. This is fantastic," he enthused, making Makoto puff up in pride a little.
"Thanks, but you should thank my mother because it's her recipe. I just managed not to butcher it is all," said Makoto modestly. "And yeah, I was actually the captain of my swim team. We won Nationals in my third year in the relay. My specialty was the backstroke." Makoto's face was wistful as the memories came back to him in waves.
"Hey, I was captain of my team too when I was in third year," said Seijuurou. "We did well a few years ago, but the team's gone downhill since I left. New guys have all been too soft," he said, joking.
"Oh, you're so modest," teased Makoto, smiling as Seijuurou grinned widely at him.
"You need to own your achievements. Like this pork, oh my god it's so good." Makoto couldn't help but laugh, and point out the plate of extras on the counter. Seijuurou immediately finished his serving and brought the other plate over, plonking another chop on Makoto's plate too.
"If I'm having seconds, so are you," he said teasingly, and Makoto happily accepted the extra portion. "This stuff is too good to become leftovers."
As the night was drawing to a close, neither of them wanted it to end, but Seijuurou didn't want to become a bother by lingering too long. The pair had dined, with Seijuurou heaping compliments on Makoto's cooking, with Makoto blushing deeply throughout, they'd traded stories over side after side of records, and by the end of the evening, they each felt like they'd known each other for years. When Makoto said as much to the redhead, a small smile graced his face and golden eyes softened, taking in the sight of a relaxed and happy Makoto.
"I know what you mean," said Seijuurou eventually. "It's not often I feel so comfortable around someone so new, but I think something just clicked." He hesitated. "I should get going, but there's one thing I want to know."
"Oh?" said Makoto, suddenly feeling slightly nervous despite the evening they'd shared. "What's that?"
"Will you… will I see you again? I mean, like, can I take you out on a… date?" stammered Seijuurou, his own nervousness at odds with his usually effusive self-confidence. Makoto smiled one of his soft smiles, his gaze fond.
"You know what? I think I'd love to go out on a date with you, Sei." Makoto was grinning now, a feeling bubbling deep inside his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time, but couldn't quite place.
"Hon? What's bothering you?"
The question came out of nowhere for Makoto, who had spaced out again, lost in his own thoughts. His mind had been cluttered with memories of his past relationship, his time with Haru. As he and Seijuurou had been dating for a few months now, Makoto was feeling the best he had in ages, but lately thoughts of Haru and their old, dead relationship had begun to invade his consciousness. Seijuurou, being the one who spent the most time with Makoto, was the first to notice, but took his time observing, wondering what was going on. Later, determined to find out what was happening, he called up Rei and Nagisa to discuss the matter over coffee.
"So lately, Makoto's been kinda spacey," said Seijuurou after everyone had arrived, poring over menus at the little café Seijuurou had used as their rendez-vous point.
"Isn't Mako-chan usually kinda spacey?" asked Nagisa, ordering the sweetest, biggest cappuccino he could get his hands on, as well as a couple pastries.
"Yes, he can be a little vague at times," said Rei, settling for biscotti and a latte, hoping for some art drawn into the foam. "But from what I know, that's fairly normal for him."
"No, this is something different," mused Seijuurou, asking for a double espresso. "Usually when he's spacing out he's got this vacant, happy look on his face. Lately, though, he hasn't been sleeping well, he isn't listening, he's just not the Mako I know." Seijuurou's tone turned melancholy, and everything clicked into place in Rei's head.
"I know what's going on," he said. Seijuurou's eyes snapped up and fixed Rei with an intense look. "Remembering past events, Makoto seems to be relapsing into the way he was when he was with Haruka." Nagisa's eyes widened, realizing the truth in his words.
"But that was ages ago, Rei-chan," said Nagisa. "I thought he moved on from that?"
"What are you talking about?" asked Seijuurou, becoming increasingly concerned.
"I think that's something you should ask him yourself," said Rei. "It really isn't our place to say, that's his story." Rei's face was solemn, Nagisa's apologetic. Seijuurou sighed, resigned to the fact.
"I'm gonna watch him some more, make sure he doesn't get worse, and then ask," he decided. The other two just nodded. They remained in silence, finishing their coffees and going their separate ways afterwards.
Makoto sat, knowing Seijuurou was expecting an answer, but was patiently waiting for him to respond in his own time. Makoto honestly didn't know why he was dredging up his past like this, for Seijuurou was nothing like Haru. He was warm, giving, loving, present. What he took he gave in equal measure, being Mako's true equilibrium. He knew what Mako needed before needing to say anything, ever supportive and caring. Makoto sighed.
"I don't know why, but I keep thinking of my last ex," he began. Seijuurou's hand worked its way into his, fingers lacing together; the touch comforting, bracing, grounding. "When we first got together, we were best friends. Life was wonderful, I thought he was everything I'd ever need. Even he was starting to come out of his shell more. I don't know what happened, or what I did to make him withdraw from me like that, and when he went back inside himself, it was like he stole a piece of me to keep, and it hurt me. For the longest time, I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't know where to go or who would help me. I'd never felt so alone with anybody in my life." Tears were rolling down Makoto's face, and Seijuurou used his other hand to gently dab them away with a tissue, his heart aching for him.
"Mako, you don't have to go on-" Seijuurou started, but Makoto squeezed his hand tighter, and interrupted him mid-thought.
"No, Sei. I really need to get this out, I've been holding onto it for too long." He took a deep, shuddering breath, gave Seijuurou's hand another squeeze, and continued. "I was so in love with him I didn't even realize what he was doing to me, and what he had already done. I couldn't imagine him leaving me, so him being so emotionally distant was the lesser of two evils, right? I figured that as long as I was there for him, maybe he'd come around again to love me like he used to.
"But he never did. It was almost like he really did leave me, except this was worse because I saw him every day, slept in the same bed every night, and it was like living with a stranger. Our bed became foreign territory to me. Our apartment made me feel like an intruder, no longer welcome there at all. And yet I still loved him, and would have felt guilty if I had left him then.
"Towards the end, Rin managed to figure everything out, and made up a plan to get me out, and get my life back in order. It's all thanks to him that I actually have a life now, and I can't bear to think of what my life would be like if he hadn't. If I didn't have the friends I have, and if I didn't have you." He gave Seijuurou's hand another squeeze, turning sad green eyes onto startled, tear-filled golden ones.
"And I keep thinking about everything that happened, everything he did to me, and everything I did as a result to try and ignore what was really happening. And I can't help but imagine that you might do the same thing, and I don't think my heart could take it." Makoto's voice gave out at that point. He kept in a sob. "Please don't do that to me. When I left him, I wanted to keep my heart hidden, to put it into a place I know nobody could find it, where nobody would hurt it, to put it in a place where I wouldn't go to foolishly give it away again. I would have had to throw my heart into the sea," he said, and the significance of the admission was not lost on Seijuurou. "I can't bear for anything to happen to it again, Sei. I just can't, I'm not strong enough." Makoto finally let the tears out, in soft waves, leading Seijuurou to pull him against his chest, his arms winding around Makoto, holding him, protecting him.
"MakoMako," he whispered into soft brown hair, large hands splayed across his chest, keeping him close, fingers drawing circles on the thin fabric of his t-shirt. "I would do anything, and I mean anything to make sure you're happy. I'd pull stars from the sky if they kept you awake, and light up the night if you were afraid of the dark. I'd learn to walk on water if it meant I'd get to you faster, and if the day should come that you find you don't want me around anymore, I'd leave you in peace, as much as it would destroy me to even think about. You're everything to me, Makoto. You're my life, I love you." Tears streamed down Seijuurou's cheeks, holding on to his Makoto, imploring him to believe him.
Makoto squirmed around in Seijuurou's arms to face him, shocked to see him crying. His big, strong, fearless Seijuurou that would cross continents for him, overcome by the emotions that ran so strong within him over the thought that Makoto would one day not want him around for fear of being abandoned yet again. It hit him like a freight train just how different he was to Haru, and how unfair he'd been to compare the two. Seijuurou's love was ever-present, all-encompassing, bracing and strengthening. Makoto didn't even realize it until then just how much a part of his life Seijuurou had become, and as time had flown by, he hadn't even had the chance to realize that he would be just as unable to go on if Makoto had become emotionally unavailable like Haru had done to him. He was seized by guilt, by dread for what he had been doing to him lately.
"Oh Sei, I'm so sorry, I've been such an asshole to you," he said, fresh tears stinging his eyes. "I can't believe I was being so fucking selfish, thinking that I couldn't be with you because of what happened to me. I've been incredibly unfair to you, assuming you'd be the same way. You're not, you never would be; you're unbelievable, you're transcendent, you're… you're beyond wonderful to me, and I feel like a terrible person for not appreciating everything you do for me, and have done for me.
"If I'd just opened my fucking eyes, I'd have seen what I have. Who I have. You've given me your heart, the least I could do would be to give you mine. But please be careful with it, it's been broken once before, I don't know how many more knocks it can take," he said, trying to make a joke. Seijuurou couldn't help but crack a watery smile at Makoto's frank statement, taking in every word. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with you, Seijuurou Mikoshiba. I'm ready to love you, even though I'm pretty sure I already did." He smiled, and hiccupped a little, prompting Seijuurou to wrap him in a bone-breaking hug.
"I'm never gonna let you go now, Makoto Tachibana. You're mine for life, sorry for your luck," said Seijuurou, overjoyed to finally hear Makoto return his sentiment. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he said, repeating the words like a mantra, burning this moment into his memory forever.
"Don't feel sorry for my luck, I couldn't have gotten a better outcome if I'd tried for the rest of time," said Makoto, smiling and pressing a kiss to Seijuurou's mouth. It was a simple, quick, chaste thing, but lying on top of Seijuurou on the couch and having just professed their love for each other had made it among the best kisses of their relationship.
Makoto's phone had been buzzing on the nightstand for quite some time before Seijuurou nudged him sleepily, muttering, "Just answer the stupid thing. It's probably your mom," before rolling over and slinging half his body onto him. Makoto just groaned in response, but began feeling around for the phone.
"H'lo?" he said, clearly still half asleep.
"Makoto darling, are you still in bed? It's half-past eleven, you lazy so-and-so," his mother said, teasing. Makoto smiled, his eyes still closed. Seijuurou was uncanny at predicting who was calling.
"Yeah, mom, still in bed. Had a late night," he said, not going into the sordid details. Surely his mother wouldn't appreciate them. Seijuurou had left him feeling exquisitely satisfied and wonderfully exhausted the night before, even if he was slightly sore. It was an ache he had grown to love.
"Well, I hope you haven't forgotten that you're both coming over for supper tonight. I wouldn't forgive you if you had," his mother said. Makoto smiled at the empty threat, saying, "No mom, we wouldn't dream of it. A world without you isn't a world worth living in."
"And you're quite right saying so, young man. Besides, your brother and sister are home for a visit from university, and you know they'd love to see you. I'm beginning to think you're being spoiled by city life, you barely visit us."
"Don't worry, we'll be there with bells on."
"Dinner will be on the table at seven thirty, sharp. Can't wait to see you!" His mother said the last part in a sing-song voice, in rather sharp contrast to the no-nonsense tone she'd used earlier.
"Can't wait to see you too, mom. Love you," he said, before hanging up.
"You know, I'd actually almost forgotten about that," murmured Seijuurou into Makoto's bare shoulder as he set the phone back onto the nightstand.
"As if you could," said Makoto, chuckling. "She's been calling every other day to make sure we're still coming," he reminded the sleepy redhead still dozing on top of him.
"Yeah, as if."
"Come on, get up, you," said Makoto, laughing as Seijuurou just hung on to him as he tried to get up and get to the shower. "We need to get cleaned up, I stink and there is no way I'm showing up to my parents all disheveled."
"But you're so cute when you're all ruffled, and you smell fantastic after sex and you know it," teased Seijuurou, sleepy golden eyes finally open, taking in the view after Makoto managed to wiggle out from underneath him. The light streaming in from the window highlighted the toned planes of Makoto's bare torso, setting his tan to glowing like hammered bronze in the afternoon sun. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing that every day," he said, smiling into the pillows.
"And I don't think I'll ever get tired of your flattery," said Makoto, climbing on top of Seijuurou as he rolled onto his back, pressing kisses up his firm stomach and chest, lingering on his neck to feel Seijuurou's back arch as he propped himself onto his elbows to mold himself against Makoto as he straddled the redhead's hips. Moving up along his jawline, feeling yesterday's growth of soft stubble against his mouth, Makoto finally settled onto Seijuurou's firm, full lips. "Good morning, my love," he said against Seijuurou's mouth, hands threading their way into soft red hair.
"Morning, babe," said Seijuurou, going in for another kiss but Makoto flew off the bed, dancing out of reach from Seijuurou's long arms, who pouted from the bed. "You're no fun, you know that right?" he called, as Makoto had disappeared through the bedroom door and into the bathroom just down the hall, laughing the whole way.
"But you love me anyway," Makoto shouted back over the sound of the shower, still sounding amused.
I sure do, he thought happily as he stepped out of his boxers and all but ran to join his MakoMako in the shower.
After they had cleaned themselves off in the shower (twice, because Seijuurou just couldn't resist a little more fun), finished up grooming and getting dressed, Makoto made them a simple lunch of sandwiches piled high with ham to tide them over until the feast Makoto's mother was undoubtedly going to serve tonight. After managing to get caught up again while packing their overnight bag, with Seijuurou forgetting that Makoto had hidden his favourite pair of bedroom underwear at the back of the drawer and pulling them out insisting Mako wear them right now, they got into Makoto's car and made their way back to his hometown of Iwatobi for the night with his parents.
The drive was spent with Seijuurou singing along with the radio, forgetting more lyrics than he remembered and Makoto laughing the whole time as he made up his own to fill in the blanks. The time flew by, and they were soon parked at the mouth of the street he grew up on. They walked down to his parents' house, hand in hand and Seijuurou insisting on carrying their bag despite Makoto's assurance that he was perfectly able to do it, arguing playfully throughout the short walk, only stopping when Makoto pulled his hand from Seijuurou's to pet the sleek white cat sitting on the steps in front of the house. Smiling fondly at the scene in front of him, Seijuurou had almost forgotten about the stray kitten Mako would feed on his way to high school in the mornings, mildly surprised it still lived in the same area all these years later.
"I guess my parents are still feeding her," Makoto mused as they approached the front door, opening it without knocking and inviting themselves in. Makoto called out as they kicked off their shoes and put them neatly among the others, hearing Mrs. Tachibana call back from the kitchen. The house was filled with the smell of savoury spices, of sweets baking and sharp citrus, making Seijuurou realize not for the first time why Makoto had such a knack for cooking.
As they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Tachibana was drying her hands on a small towel, carefully rearranging it on the handle of the oven before wrapping her son in a motherly hug and then doing the same for Seijuurou. Mr. Tachibana was at the table reading the weekend edition of the newspaper, a glass of water with lemon and lime sitting on the placemat. He stood up, shaking both of their hands in turn.
"Makoto, honey, I'm glad you came so early, you can help your father set up the furniture in the back yard for supper tonight," said Mrs. Tachibana by way of greeting. "Seijuurou can help me finish peel the potatoes in here, he could use the practice," she teased, sending a little wink his way. He chuckled as he took the offered knife from Mrs. Tachibana and busied himself at the kitchen sink.
"Well, now that we've got the place to ourselves, I'd like to talk to you frankly," said Mrs. Tachibana. Seijuurou's eyes widened in alarm at her declaration and he nearly dropped the knife in among the potato skins. "Oh no, nothing like that, dear," she amended quickly, laughing lightly. "Makoto's been rubbing off on you," she said fondly. "It's wonderful to see him this happy. I'm glad to see that you love him so much. You set the standard for the rest of us, you know. I can see it in his face whenever he looks at you." Her voice wavered, but she was still smiling. "Thank you for being there for him. It means the world to us to see him so carefree again."
"Thank you," said Seijuurou, slightly at a loss for words at her confession. "You know I'd do anything for your son to see him happy," he added, his conviction evident.
"I know, sweetheart. I know," she said, her eyes shining.
The front door slammed open, and both Seijuurou and Mrs. Tachibana peeked their heads around the corner into the hall to see Ren and Ran hauling overlarge duffle bags into the front hall. Their faces lit up as they saw Seijuurou, and rushed to get their bags inside in order to both give him hugs. He just laughed, and called out for Makoto to get back inside and help him, grinning widely as they launched from him to their brother, who was smiling his usual soft, fond smile, green eyes placid and happy as he put his arms around both in turn.
"You two need to go see mom before she has a conniption," he suggested as the hug lasted for quite some time, laughing as he saw the understanding dawn on their faces as they tore into the kitchen to their mother's exclamations that she was holding a hot dish, and for the love of God to please be more careful.
"God, I've missed them," sighed Makoto, contentedly. Seijuurou had to agree; the twins were a force to be reckoned with, but he couldn't resist their infectious energy and happiness. He pulled Makoto to his side, tilting his chin up and kissing him lightly. As he pulled away, he was lost in the deep green staring back at him, simply happy to be in a house where love was so palpable, thankful to be part of Makoto's life.
Supper went by in a haze of too much food, good conversation, wine and laughter. Mrs. Tachibana had truly outdone herself with the main courses, and surpassed even that with an exquisite cake that had clearly taken hours for her to decorate, with its fine detailing and painstaking care evident in its presentation. Seijuurou felt guilty taking the first piece, being the only real guest among family, and for having to cut into her masterpiece. He forgot all of that as soon as he put the first rich forkful in his mouth, letting out a moan at the intense but delicate flavour. Mrs. Tachibana later confided in Makoto that she'd never had a higher compliment in terms of her cooking, and his heart leapt. Later that evening, as he was helping clean up the table, Seijuurou was pulled aside by Mr. Tachibana this time while Makoto was helping Ren and Ran with the dishes and Mrs. Tachibana relaxed a little between cooking and cleaning.
"You know, Seijuurou, after Makoto's last relationship I had my doubts about him getting into a new one," said Mr. Tachibana calmly, looking Seijuurou right in the eye. He fidgeted a little on the spot, slightly unsettled by the scrutiny. "I felt like he hadn't given himself enough time between leaving his previous partner and becoming involved with you." Mr. Tachibana paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts to express his point correctly.
"However, every time you've come to visit with him has further proven the point that I couldn't have been farther from the truth. I'm sorry for having judged you so harshly from the off, but I hope you can understand where I am coming from here."
"Absolutely, sir," said Seijuurou formally. "After Makoto shared his experiences with me in his last relationship, all I've wanted was to be there for his happiness. And if he should decide that he would be happier without me, I maintain that I will be gone from his life, regardless of the cost it'll have on me. That's how much he means to me," he said confidently. "He's my whole world," he finished simply.
"I can tell," said Mr. Tachibana gently. "And I'm glad for it. Thank you for being so good for him. Now let's get this stuff put away, I personally have an appointment with sleep that I feel I'm rather late for."
As Mr. Tachibana headed back inside, Makoto slipped out the back door, amidst Ren and Ran's shouts as they fought with the soapsuds from the sink. He had a tired but happy look on his face, his eyes soft and fond, clearly just happy to be around the people he loved most. He made his way to Seijuurou, winding his arms around his neck, kissing him gently.
"Tonight's been just perfect," he said, leaning his head on Seijuurou's shoulder, sighing contentedly. "You having fun?"
"It's always fun with you around, MakoMako," said Seijuurou, pressing a kiss of his own onto the top of Makoto's head. "Love you," he added.
"Love you too, Sei. So much." Makoto yawned widely. "…think I need to go to bed," he said.
"I think so too, sweet pea. You go on upstairs, I'll make sure Ren and Ran don't make more of a mess than you've already cleaned up, then I'll be up right afterwards," said Seijuurou.
"Don't take too long," said Makoto. "You know I sleep better when you're falling asleep with me," he said quietly, as if he found the fact embarrassing.
"I know, love. It's the same way with me," he assured, giving Makoto's hand a quick squeeze and a swat on the bum to send him inside. "I'll be right behind you," he promised with a wink. Makoto smiled at him fondly, then turned and headed through the door. Seijuurou was pleased to see the twins hadn't destroyed the kitchen with their soap fight, and with all the dishes in the drying rack, he headed upstairs to finally get some proper rest.
The next morning, Seijuurou was up early with Makoto to make breakfast before everyone else woke up. The pair traipsed downstairs in pajama bottoms and t-shirts. As Makoto began rummaging through the fridge, trying to decide what to make, he didn't really come across anything he'd really consider "breakfast food".
"We're going to the farmer's market," he declared, as Seijuurou was settling at the kitchen table. He looked down longingly at the large cup of strong coffee he had in his hands, then back at Makoto, eyes pleading. He sighed, went to a cupboard by the sink, and pulled out a travel mug. "Don't you know by now that I'm immune to those charms of yours, Seijuurou Mikoshiba?", he said playfully. Seijuurou smirked at the comment. "Well, some of them," Makoto amended, smiling lightly. "Now pour that in there, and let's go before the surprise is ruined and it makes us look like we tried to make a break for it."
They walked down the street hand in hand, enjoying the crisp morning air, Seijuurou sipping happily on his coffee, and graciously offering Makoto some every now and again. The farmer's market wasn't too far away, but the route was nice, winding along the seaside with the spray in the breeze. Seijuurou was just about to comment on how lucky he was to have grown up with such a picturesque view when he held his hand slip out of his. Makoto was stopped, frozen, rooted to the sidewalk. Seijuurou followed the direction of his gaze to stop on a dark haired young man sitting on the rocks, hand in hand with a young woman with her head on his shoulder.
"Mako?" asked Seijuurou, feeling slightly concerned. "Are you okay?"
"Fine, Sei. Hang on a second, I want to do something," Makoto said, a dark look coming over his face like storm clouds rolling in. He marched down the sidewalk, hopped over the guard rail, and Seijuurou followed, apprehensive as to what was going on. He'd never seen Makoto look this furious, apoplectic even.
"Haru!" Makoto bellowed. Seijuurou's stomach lurched. Oh no. Oh no no no, he thought. So this was Makoto's ex. The other young man's head turned to look at who called his name, and blanched. The young woman was lost in the exchange, edging away from the pair. Seijuurou kept a careful distance, ready to intervene if necessary. Makoto's fist was cocked back at the ready, when Haru interrupted him.
"Makoto, stop, please," he pleaded, and something in his voice gave Makoto pause. He stopped, his fist still clenched. "Please," said Haru again, softly, holding his hands up as if in surrender. Makoto found it strange, hearing emotion in Haru's voice, after not feeling anything from him for so long before, and his arm dropped back to his side.
"I never thought I'd see you again, after everything happened," said Haru, his voice soft, vulnerable. "After you left, the only thing I wanted was to have you back, to feel you near me-"
"Bullshit, Haru." Makoto cut him off brusquely, eyes flashing. "That is utter bullshit. How could you want me back when you didn't want me around you to begin with? You shut me out, you pushed me aside, made me feel like I was invading our life, my own life. Why, Haru? Why? Why?" Makoto threw the last word at him like a dart, the force behind it making Haru flinch, taking steps toward him.
Haru's eyes finally shed the tears he'd never cried after Makoto left, the pain opening up a wound he'd thought he had long since forgotten, startling Makoto into silence and stillness. The young woman went back to Haru's side, hands clasping one of Haru's as he failed to meet Makoto's eyes.
"That's enough! This is ridiculous," she said to Makoto sharply, her dark eyes boring into his. "Calm down, and give him a moment to recover before you try to pound him into the ground again like you did when you left, Makoto Tachibana. Yes, he may have hurt you, but that doesn't give you the right to hurt him back, and then kick him while he's down." Her voice was as throwing daggers, and Seijuurou was back at Makoto's side, his broad hand on his shoulder.
"She's right, Mako," he said, seeing the truth in her rather harsh words. If what he'd heard of Haruka Nanase was anything to go by, Seijuurou knew that he was hurting more than he showed right now.
"Whose side are you on?" said Makoto, but much of the force behind the words was lost. They stood there awkwardly for a few moments, the sea attacking the shore. Two small words broke the quiet.
"I'm sorry," said Haru, finally able to meet Makoto's stare. His face was the most open Makoto had ever seen it: guilt, misery and regret were written plainly on it, his eyes plaintive and apologetic. Makoto could feel his eyes burning, and pressed a shaking hand to his mouth. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I didn't, couldn't give you the love you needed. I'm sorry for pulling away, for leaving you the way I did. I'm so sorry, Makoto," he said in a rush. "I'm sorry I didn't know how to love you, to care for you, to give you the life you deserved." He fixed Seijuurou with his deep blue stare. "I only hope that you're able to do the things I couldn't, to make him the happy, caring, carefree man I know he is." Before Seijuurou could say anything, Makoto answered for him.
"He is," said Makoto simply, smiling slightly despite his own tears. "And I suppose I have you to thank for it in a way, Haru." The implication wasn't lost on any of them.
"I'm not finished," said Haru quietly. "What I did to you was cruel, but so was what you did to me." Haru's tone made Makoto feel like he'd been punched in the stomach. "When you left, it made me realize what I'd done to you, and why. I was so scared, Makoto. I was worried about our future, I was worried that something better come along and I would lose you. And I lost you anyway," he continued. "I drove you away. I was the reason you moved on." Makoto's heart had grown cold, and chills ran up his spine.
"I'm so sorry Haru," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "If I'd known-"
"Communication had never been our strong suit," said Haru wryly, prompting a laugh from Makoto despite the situation. "I can only hope that now that we know everything that you'll find it in you to forgive me in time. I know I've already forgiven you, and I understand if you find it difficult, but all I ask is that you consider it sometime." His voice had grown small, nervous.
"I don't need the time. I forgive you, Haru," stated Makoto simply, shrugging. Haru bit his lip, but put his hand out almost as a measure of truce. Makoto took it and pulled Haru into a hug, who smiled before wrapping his own arms around him. When they broke apart, Makoto's eyes were shining with fresh tears, but his grin was wide.
"I almost forgot," said Haru, looking at the young woman apologetically. "This is Himeko, my fiancée." He took the young woman's hand, smiling tenderly and brushed some of her shining black hair out of her face.
"Pleased to meet you," said Makoto, blushing. "I'm glad to know that Haru fell for someone who'll be able keep up with him."
"That she does," said Haru fondly. "And to echo something you said earlier, I guess I have you to thank for her."
As they walked back to Makoto's house from the market, laden down with baskets of fruit, Seijuurou felt the need to break the silence.
"You OK, Mako?"
"You know what? I think I am," said Makoto placidly, soft green eyes meeting gold. "I didn't know what I'd do if and when the time came, but I'm kind of glad it did. It feels good to have gotten that off of my chest. Things won't ever be the same between Haru and I, but this was a step in the right direction." He sighed. "She's been good for him, she's opened him up and changed him for the better in ways that I doubt I would have ever been able to accomplish, and I'm happy about it. Besides, if I'd stayed I never would have met you," he added, bumping Seijuurou's shoulder with his own.
Seijuurou smiled, pleased with the developments. "I have to admit though, I thought you were going to punch him so hard his grandchildren would have felt it," he said, laughing. Makoto smiled.
"You know, I was going to, but it really wouldn't have accomplished anything. Besides, Himeko looked like she would have vapourized me on the spot. I'm just glad everything's worked out for the best." His happy little smile stayed on his face as they finished the walk home.
As they walked back into the kitchen, Mr. and Mrs. Tachibana were already at the table with some of the coffee Seijuurou had made, talking quietly and looking up as they set their baskets on the kitchen counter.
"Told you they were coming back," Mr. Tachibana said, as Makoto winked at Seijuurou.
"Thank you for getting these," said Mrs. Tachibana as she got up to root through the baskets. "I'll take care of breakfast while you boys relax. Wake your brother and sister up in a little while, though. They still get grumpy if they don't get breakfast." Makoto assured them they would, and pulled Seijuurou from the kitchen by the hand and up to his bedroom, mischief clear in his eyes.
"Finally, some time to ourselves," he said in a low voice after he'd shut the door, pulling Seijuurou in close for a kiss. Their lips met, and Seijuurou's mouth opened for Makoto's tongue, the taste of his morning coffee still lingering. Makoto edged the pair of them further into the room, with Seijuurou falling backwards onto the bed as his knees came into contact with the mattress. He landed with a soft oof, and felt Makoto climb on top of him, his kisses becoming more insisting. Seijuurou let out a low moan as Makoto began moving from his mouth down his jaw and onto his neck, lingering right on the spot he knew Seijuurou loved.
"I love seeing you squirm under me, Sei," said Makoto, his eyes sparking.
"Then I don't know why you're not on top more often," he countered. "I like looking up at you more than you know."
"Shut up and kiss me." He obliged, his long fingers threading their way into Makoto's soft brown hair, pulling him down to meet his lips. His other hand moved from his back, across his sides and onto his chest, feeling the smooth, hard planes of the muscles underneath, his thumb and forefinger finding a nipple and drawing noises of appreciation from Makoto.
"You're wearing far too many clothes, you know," said Seijuurou as he pulled away from Makoto, his hand leaving Makoto's hair and tugging at the shirt in question, trying to get it off his boyfriend. Makoto leaned back, sitting on Seijuurou's hips, and helped pull it over his head and tossed it onto his desk chair.
"And it's only fair to repay the favour," said Makoto. "That shirt's hiding way too much of your beautiful skin." Seijuurou grinned, and sat up a little to pull off his own shirt, kissing Makoto lightly before flopping back on the bed. Makoto all but dove, and trailed kisses down Seijuurou's neck, down his pronounced collar bones and down his chest. He licked a line all the way down the centre of Seijuurou's ridged stomach, one hand on his chest, the other with fingers in Seijuurou's mouth, stopping to untie Seijuurou's pajama pants with his teeth. He ran his free hand down Seijuurou's torso, feeling him groan as much as hearing him. He hooked two fingers under the waistband, and wiggled the pants down over narrow hips, exposing the prize underneath.
"Sei, you naughty boy, not wearing underwear? What would the townsfolk think?" teased Makoto, eyes shining with mischief as his hand found its way around Seijuurou's nearly painfully hard erection, stroking languidly.
"Stop asking questions and use your mouth properly," he ordered, smirking. Makoto happily obliged, taking him in and delighting in the gasps he was drawing from the redhead. He surprised his lover by bobbing a few times along the top of his length, then swallowing him whole. Seijuurou's moan was strangled, and his fingers wound their way into his hair again. His legs tensed, and Makoto's hand tightened around the base of his erection, his pinky traveling ever-further south, teasing Seijuurou into a frenzy.
"You're going to have to do more than that," warned Seijuurou. Makoto's hand released the base of his cock and ran up his chest again, so Seijuurou could wet both his index and middle fingers. Makoto came up from his crotch, the look in his eyes positively fiendish in his desire.
"Oh, I plan on much more than that, my love," he said, his voice husky. Seijuurou could only hum in agreement, his mouth still otherwise occupied. He looked disappointed when Makoto pulled his fingers from his mouth, but recovered quickly when he remembered what Makoto had planned for them.
His left had resumed it's languid stroking, as he nudged apart Seijuurou's legs with a knee, prompting the redhead to lift them up off the bed bent at the knees. Makoto's middle finger circled his hole slowly, deliberately, watching as Seijuurou bit his lip in anticipation. As he slipped his finger in up to the first knuckle, Seijuurou grasped the bedsheets, eyebrows knit. Makoto felt him relax, and slipped the still-wet tip of his index finger in, gently stretching further and allowing gradual entrance for the whole length of his digits. Makoto continued in this vein for a few minutes until Seijuurou let out a grunt and said, "You're gonna have to fuck me soon or so help me Mako…" Makoto didn't give him the opportunity to finish the thought.
After capturing Seijuurou's mouth in another searing kiss, the taste of coffee still fresh on his tongue, Makoto rummaged quickly in his nightstand and withdrew the necessary implements. Still with two fingers inside Seijuurou, Makoto prepared himself one-handed, and with one last languid kiss, withdrew his other hand and guided himself in.
"Finally," said Seijuurou, as Makoto was all the way in. He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and pulled on Makoto's thighs to bring him in as far as he'd go, moaning as Makoto made contact with his prostate. "Now move," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. Makoto was only too happy to oblige, the feeling of Seijuurou so tight around him, so hot. Seeing his face every time he bumped his prostate, watching him writhe underneath him as they fucked.
"I doubt I'm gonna last long," he said.
"That's what you get for not having sex yesterdaaaaay," said Seijuurou, drawing the last word out with a pleasured smile on his face. "But see if I care." He pulled on Makoto's neck, kissing him hard, tasting the strawberries he'd seen Makoto pilfer from the baskets on the walk home. Makoto drove into him hard, making him see stars, and came with a low, quiet, shuddering moan. Seijuurou followed not long after, grinning deliriously up at Makoto, his soft green eyes clouded with satisfaction, desire, and love. "I love you, you know."
"Surprise surprise," said Makoto, with a soppy smile of his own. "I love you too. Now let's get into the shower, we kinda ate up a lot of time and we need to get the twins up. No more funny business 'till we get home either."
"Aww, come on!" wheedled Seijuurou, eyebrows knit in an appealing expression, eyes imploring.
"Maybe later, then, but now you owe me two blowjobs."
"You, sir, have a deal."
Welp, so that's that one finished for now. I might re-visit it later, flesh it out into a chaptered story, but we'll see. Please review, let me know what you thought.
Yours,
Shawn Bassett