Tokishima Haruto lived an ordinary life.

There was no letter of acceptance to a magical academy delivered to him, no mad man in a blue box asking for his companionship, and fortunately, no burning mother on the ceiling, prompting an epic quest of vengeance. Not every person's life was worth a giant franchise complete with blockbuster movies and other spinoffs, and he was fine with that. His life was exciting enough, albeit in an ordinary way. The peaceful life that he was currently living was also a form of happiness, after all. A world without war where his loved ones were alive and well, things couldn't possibly get better.

Just this once, everyone lives.

Haruto, now aged 24, worked at a publishing company as an editor for a lifestyle magazine. Things were always hectic at his division, and every day was a combat on its own. During an especially tight schedule at the end of the production cycle, bodies were strewn, and he could barely see the pearly gates opening before him. God was surprisingly nice, and he was happy that he got to come in.

The things people saw when they suffered from lack of sleep and were on a caffeine high.

Near impossible deadlines, quirky colleagues, and irregular working hours…such were the conditions, but Haruto wouldn't have it any other way. Or maybe he was already desensitized and conditioned enough to the sheer absurdity of it all. Whatever it was, Haruto liked the place.

Momentous events seemed to have always started by the most simple of statements. Ranging from "Houston, we have a problem," to the everyday "we need to talk." In his case, it was the phrase of "may I borrow your lighter?" that started it all.

Leaving the college with severe nicotine and caffeine addictions, as always, Haruto left his department to fulfill his daily cigarette fix. It was 3 o'clock, the near official time for a cigarette break widely observed by the company's numerous addicts, and Haruto was also no different. He stood from his seat, and tapped his jeans pocket to ensure that his cigarette was there. Editors were never on a strict dress code – that was for the sales people to handle – and sometimes, he could even get away with wearing jeans. Just like today.

Haruto was never picky on the brand he smoked, but Hope would always be his first choice. On his department's floor, there was a smoking room bounded on all sides by clear walls. However, the place was often packed to the gills, leaving Haruto with little choice but to look for someplace else to indulge.

"Maybe I should stop…"

Even as he muttered the words to himself, he knew that it was hardly a little more than a lip service. Sometimes he just wanted to do something bad to his body. Work was stressful and cigarettes helped, that was all there was.

For now, he had at least needed three cigarettes to help him finish his workload for the day, so quitting would have to come at another time. It was a "three smokes problem," so to speak. Telling himself that he would just keep it to the bare minimum and knowing that it was a lie, Haruto then slipped out onto the emergency stairwell outside.

The autumn sky was grey, with the sun hiding behind the clouds – turning the air chilly. This place was also a designated smoking area, but in a season such as this, there were few who would come out and brave the cold. Winter was coming, and not just on TV. It was an ideal place if you wanted to be left alone – or not. Haruto stopped short when he realized who was already standing there, leaning close to the railings.

It was Michael Karlstein from the sales department, one of the company's few elites. With perfect sales record, pedigree, and looks, he was truly a model prince-type character from the company's numerous shoujo mangas. The subject of his private life became the staple of the company's gossip mill, and Haruto had already lost count on the number of female staffs who secretly belonged to his fan club. A secret society of sorts, though hopefully, lacking in malicious intent. Michael's basic premise couldn't possibly get more clichéd.

Him being in the sales and Haruto in the magazine department, meant that they had seldom interacted. Except for the annual year end party, the relationship between them was only a little more than mere strangers. Their offices were located on a different floor, and should they finally cross paths, Michael would primarily deal with his boss, during the monthly print run meeting. Their circle also didn't quite mesh, not to mention their position on the social strata. Bottom line was, things couldn't possibly get any different between them.

"Well, whatever."

Speaking softly to himself, Haruto took his cigarette packet. Biting one between his teeth after tapping it out with a finger, he searched for his lighter. Moments passed, and after going through the 5 stages of loss and grief, Haruto had finally came into terms to the fact that he had accidentally left his lighter at home. He knew that morning smokes were a bad idea on his part – mostly because of this.

Realizing his mistake and trying to quickly amend it, Haruto took a step forward, and called out in a calm voice, "Excuse me, may I borrow your lighter? I seemed to have forgotten mine."

"…sure."

Michael turned around, moving to pass him his lighter. Upon closer inspection, Haruto could make out the faint scent of honey coming from his general direction. Most probably, Michael had also smoked Hope, the same brand as him. Quite unexpected of him, but just one thing in common didn't mean that all of their differences would simply vanish, and Haruto had already known better. Unfortunately, Michael's lighter had decided that this would be the perfect time to run out of juice, and just when Haruto had resigned himself to muse about the reality of this beautiful but cruel world, Michael did something unexpected. Michael reached forward and grabbed into Haruto's collar, jerking him close to bring their faces together. The tips of their cigarettes touched, and Michael leaned in to transfer the flame. The few seconds it took for the cigarette to catch on fire had seemed immeasurably long, leaving Haruto flustered in the process.

"…better?"

"Yes."

Haruto took a long drag and released it, opening and closing his mouth awkwardly.

Neither of them spoke about it again.

That was roughly the circumstances between them two years ago.

They started dating for about one year and a half, and lived together for six months. Many things had happened, but perhaps, it was a story for some other time. This was a tale of crime, love, and passion. With the crime part virtually non-existent and heavy emphasis was given to love and passion, with plenty of happiness thrown in. At least, that was what Haruto had hoped it to be.

You could truly fall in love for the most trivial of reasons. One stupid person – not different from any other stupid person – walked into his stupid life. He just did something stupid, like giving his cigarette a light, and suddenly, Haruto's life wasn't his anymore. Michael grew on him, and his presence got bigger each and every day. Just like the mysterious African trees that he had once read about in a children's picture book. Once they had taken roots, it was impossible stop. And Haruto probably, wouldn't want it to.

Recently, Haruto had been watching too many movies, so miracles had became all to common. But being with Michael, it was a miracle on par to winning a mumbo jumbo golden ticket. To the world's biggest chocolate factory, none less!

And for that, Haruto was grateful.

Haruto loosened his tie, sitting on the bed of his and Michael's bedroom. Michael was standing a couple of meters away, taking out his jacket and neatly hung it on a hanger. Haruto watched him, letting out a tired but contented sigh.

Today was the day of Rukino and Alexander's wedding. It had been a small but perfectly organized ceremony for a small number of guests. They were something more than work colleagues for Haruto and Michael. Haruto had known Rukino since first joining the company, with her acting as some sort of mentor and agony aunt during his impressionable newbie years. On the other hand, Alexander was a childhood friend cum self-professed rival of Michael, who also entered the company at the same batch and department as him. Michael himself seemed aloof, but Haruto could plainly see the fondness, at least on Alexander's part.

Apart from them, the boss, Cain also showed up, together with other colleagues from work and a few mutual friends. Taking note of both parties' sheer popularity, Haruto had initially thought that at least one problem or hijinks would occur, but surprisingly, everything had gone well. During the past few weeks when Michael had been dragged as the best man and event organizer, Haruto had discovered that he had a talent for organizing things. Michael had also shown a rare sense of childishness during the whole ordeal, like when he and Alexander had a rather aggressive dance off on the ball room. Alexander was totally plastered, but Michael looked about the same as usual. Michael always had high tolerance for alcohol, and Alexander on the other hand, was continuously goaded to partake more than his capacity allowed by several shady characters that Haruto failed to remember – making the situation even more hilarious in the hindsight.

The bride, Rukino didn't seem to be offended at the display in the least, opting to take copious amount of pictures for later use. The other guests, drunk as they were, didn't particularly gave both of them much thought, and was busy on their own merry making. Drunken people sure did funny things, but overall, the ceremony had been a good success. Haruto smiled fondly, remembering several scenes that he filed up into the long term memory.

The day had been fairly exhausting and emotional for Haruto, especially since he had been able to see a dear friend looking so happy. Rukino had always been beautiful, but tonight, she seemed to have emanated a soft glow, that characterized people standing on the pinnacle of happiness. To the happy couple, he had given his full support, with nothing but nice words and best wishes for them.

"Well, it was certainly an eventful day."

Haruto said with a smile. Michael looked into Haruto's direction and nodded in response. They were among the last ones to leave, and by the time they left the wedding hall, the day had darkened.

He then left the bed and took off his jacket, putting it on a nearby chair. Michael would probably chide him for his messiness later, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to bother. "Do you feel better?" Michael wasn't drunk, but it wouldn't hurt to ask. He let out a soft chuckle, to which Michael just replied quietly in a sulky manner.

"…yes."

It is really cute.

No wonder you fall in love. Isn't natural, if you get to see parts of someone that no one else gets to see? Haruto wanted to burn the sight into his memory, keep it for himself, and stay that way forever.

"Either way, everything went well," Haruto smiled, remembering the happy look on the couple's face before things started to get a little fuzzy. Not that he took advantage on the free booze provided, not him.

Haruto then took a few steps towards Michael, and hugged him from behind, burying his head in between Michael's neck and shoulder.

"I am happy," he mumbled into his shoulder, and [I hope you too] was the word left unsaid, but understood by Michael who replied, "Me too." He probably felt the same amount, or even greater happiness than Haruto, seeing his childhood friend got married, as was shown by his uncharacteristic behavior. Sometimes, Michael was the most expressive person Haruto had ever known, and today was one of such instances.

Haruto placed a soft kiss on his hair and hugged Michael more strongly. He was hoping for a Hope-flavored kiss when they first kissed; if that even made some sense. Since when kissing Michael has become something so natural?

Michael turned around, hugging Haruto from the front and burying his face into his shirt. He kissed Haruto's cheek, trailing his lips to his nose, then to his other cheek, and finally to his forehead.

They both leaned in, lips meeting in a soft kiss.

Haruto slipped his tongue to the crevice of Michael's mouth, and as soon as their tongues were connected, their kiss became much deeper. Michael buried his fingers into Haruto's shirt, who break their rhythm by suddenly sucking on Michael's tongue roughly, eliciting an appreciative hum. Michael let Haruto dominated the kiss for a while. Haruto then changed from being rough to being extremely gentle, curling his tongue around Michael's slowly. He started to unbutton Michael's shirt, biting Michael's bottom lip. Not enough to bleed, but strong enough to sting. Michael sighed, and separated their lips.

Haruto had managed to get Michael's dress shirt out of the way, giving a fond look as he started trailing his hands across Michael's chest. He was moving his hands up and down slowly, making sure not to miss his nipples during the process. Michael had also started to unbutton Haruto's shirt, doing his best to not get distracted by Haruto's fingers pressed against his nipples.

"Ngh…Haruto…" his hands started shaking as he stubbornly kept on trying to unbutton Haruto's shirt.

"What is wrong, Michael?" Haruto was giving him a clueless look while rubbing them hard, watching closely for Michael's reaction. The buttons were finally undone and Michael yanked the shirt off in one go, kissing him hard. Haruto kissed back, dragging his tongue back into his mouth.

Michael rubbed his tongue against Haruto's impatiently, hand buried in Haruto's hair and the other wrapped at the base of his neck with a vice grip. Haruto didn't stop teasing his nipples even while kissing, and it made Michael moaned into his mouth and pressed his tongue harder. After a few heated minutes, they pulled away from each other, gasping for air.

"Touch me properly, you fool." Michael said, voice sounding too shaky and desperate for his liking.

"I got it," Haruto chuckled and did as he was told, pressing flush against him and started tracing his hands down his body again, making Michael closed his eyes and moaned. Haruto's hands eventually reached his pants, and he unbuckled them as swift as he could. Michael lifted his hips up and stepped out of his pants, doing the same with his boxers.

Haruto was silent, eyeing his naked body up and down. Michael was truly dazzling, and no matter how bad Haruto's eyesight would become, it was impossible to miss. Dazzling like precious stones, it is a pity that it couldn't all be sealed up inside a velvet box. He slowly stepped forward and pushed Michael's shoulder, making him land on their bed. Before Michael could even comment on his actions, Haruto knelt down next to the edge of the bed and grabbed Michael's half hard cock in his hand.

Michael gave out a mix of laughter and gasp, looking at Haruto with an amused look on his face. Whatever the thing he thought Haruto would do, Michael had decided to just sit back and watch. Haruto sent him a longing gaze and inched himself closer, placing a brief kiss on the head. He began to trail his tongue around, doing his best not to accidentally use his teeth, and Michael's cock twitched in reaction.

In the next moment, Haruto flattened his tongue and licked the whole shaft from base to tip. He grabbed the base of Michael's cock with his hand, and gave one experimental suck. It induced a moan from Michael, and he felt him slowly ease his cock into his mouth. Haruto then reached to cup Michael's balls with his hand at the same time.

He sucked harder, and bobbed his head up and down in a quickening rhythm, rolling his tongue around the head and along the sensitive vein of his shaft. Just when Michael was close to the edge, Haruto lifted his head, and pulled out his mouth with an audible pop. Sensing the sudden lost of contact, Michael's reaction was brief.

"…finish…what you started."

" 'M Sorry – "

Then, he felt Haruto backed away slightly and heard a familiar sound of a bottle opening. He knew that Haruto took the lube from their night table, and Michael breathed in and out deeply to prepare himself. Soon he felt a lube coated finger enter him, and his breath hitched, reacting to the cold sensation.

"Is it okay?"

"Does it hurt? "

"Do you want me to stop?"

No matter how many times they had done the deed, when it came to this point, Haruto would still always act like blushing virgin – making his previous confidence seemed like a lie. Apart from alcohol, Michael had a rather high threshold for pain, so he didn't mind a healthy amount of them in the bed room. He was not a fragile flower, precious china, or any other synonyms that existed thereof. But once in a while, maybe it wasn't so bad to be treated this gently – not that he would ever admit it. It was one of the many secrets that he would just keep to himself and take to the grave, a lover only need to know as much.

"Just go slow."

Once Haruto was able to slide in his finger relatively easily, he started to add another finger, stretching Michael's entrance even further. His other hand was still stroking Michael's dick, occasionally cupping his balls.

Soon he started moving both fingers inside him a bit faster, and Michael couldn't help but push back.

"More…!" Michael was quickly becoming desperate; the fingers were not enough anymore.

"I got it," Haruto replied and pulled his fingers out of him, lowering his pants. He put on a condom and coated it in lube, before positioning himself in front of Michael's entrance.

He slowly pressed in and finally, he was fully seated inside of Michael. Haruto let out a shaky sigh and leaned against Michael's forehead. He closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the feeling of Haruto inside of him, heat pooling in his stomach. As always, Haruto still looked nervous, and he couldn't help but to smile.

"Feels good," Michael murmured against his lips, and pecked Haruto on the lips.

Haruto leaned his head back a bit and gazed into his eyes, smiling at him. He returned the smile and moved himself slightly. Haruto moaned softly, and then he took his hand, lifting it to his mouth and gently kissing Michael's knuckles.

He then fixed his hands on Michael's hips and started to move. Michael gasped at the feeling and pushed back against him in response. Soon they established a steady rhythm, with Michael's already hard cock pressing against Haruto's stomach.

Suddenly, Haruto leaned in and hugged Michael as tight as he could, nuzzling against his cheek.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Haruto whispered into his ear, saying it over and over again like a prayer. His voice was warm and sincere, and the thought of it made Michael felt his throat tighten.

"Sap," he whispered back; and then added, "I know."

He pushed a hair away from Haruto's fore head, and kissed him there. I promise that I will do better, but for the meantime, this will have to do.

Haruto sighed and placed his head underneath Michael's chin, trailing open-mouthed kisses and leaving marks against his pale neck. Michael pulled at Haruto's hair and moaned, moving his hips and rubbing himself hard against Haruto's stomach.

Haruto kissed his way up his neck and jaw, eventually reaching his ear and nibbling it slowly. He started to speed up his rhythm, burying himself deeper into Michael with every thrust. Suddenly, Michael gasped; Haruto had managed to hit his most sensitive spot.

"Is it here? Does it feel good?" he asked, his voice breathy. He licked the shell of Michael's ear, aiming for the same spot.

"Shut up, you already know–" Michael cried out in response, desperate for more contact, and meeting Haruto's thrusts frantically. He took Haruto's face in his hands and captured his lips in a kiss, putting all of his emotions into it.

Haruto kissed back with equal passion, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and entering him a bit more urgently. Michael ground down against him, wrapping his arms and legs around his back, bringing them even closer together.

Haruto proceeded to plant kisses all over his face and neck, plunging into him much harder than before. Michael dug his nails into Haruto's skin, pressing his face into Haruto's neck and gasped. All pretense of having coherent thought left him. He was lost in the feeling of Haruto inside him, his felt light headed and incredibly warm in every place where their bodies touched.

Haruto changed their rhythm, almost pulling all the way out and pushing back in abruptly, staring at him intently, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. His pace was much quicker than before, and Michael moaned, pushing back against him. Haruto buried his face between Michael's neck and shoulder, and Michael clung to him desperately.

"Michael…!" Haruto sounded like he was close himself, and Michael curled his toes, rubbing himself against Haruto's stomach which was now stained by his own precum.

"Haruto…!" he started, digging his nails even deeper into Haruto's back, his orgasm quickly approaching. It was likely that it would later leave marks, but he was too far gone to care.

Haruto chose that moment to kiss him again, pressing his tongue against his, reaching down with one hand to pump his cock, and Michael lost it, moaning into Haruto's mouth and coming all over their stomachs. Haruto closely followed, coming hard inside him and gasping into their kiss.

If movies were like a string of pearls that took only the best, most dramatic part, then a human life must certainly be a mess – a beautiful beautiful mess. And Haruto was happy with that part of the deal.

The happiness of meeting him, in the time and place called "now" came to Haruto. Though not compromising the whole, his world was steadily filled with Michael. If the man with the blue box really did come and gave him the chance to rewind back, what would his past self say?

He remembered the time at the rooftop where he thought that cigarette brand was all they had in common. To this day, the things adding the list weren't much; but Haruto had finally learned to take it all in stride. The feelings he embraced and the one that Michael felt didn't have to be one and the same. It wasn't about a forced intimacy, adding forced meanings, or even forcing to agree on something that couldn't be comprehended.

Haruto is Haruto and Michael is Michael.

In the space between them, there must surely be a limitless amount of common denominators – if only he would just spare a little more time to look. And look he did. After all, they got all of the time in the world to do so.

Maybe he really was a hopeless romantic, but it was not a bad train of thought to take.

I love you, Michael.

May this miraculous string of fate that brought us together would never sever.