"Don't stop me nooow —"
"Cuz I'm having a good time!"
"Don't stop me nooow —"
"Yes, I'm having a good time …"
"I don't want to stop at all!"
He had to very intentionally narrow his eyes to keep himself from chuckling. Rei and Nagisa were leaping in bounds around his sitting room as though someone had slipped something into their drinks. The karaoke machine that Nagisa had brought over was cranked up to it's full volume, distorting the sound so that barely any of the lyrics could be heard, which, in Nagisa's case especially, were being wailed out in very broken English anyway. Rei, every now and then, shouted over the music to repeat what the words were supposed to sound like, but Nagisa was lost in a world of head-banging.
Amakata-sensei and Gou were off to the side, red in the face with giggles, occasionally singing along when they knew the parts. Coach Sasabe and Makoto's parents had elected to linger around just outside of the room, where they had a mild chance of better hearing their conversation but could still smile at the chaos. The twins, for a while, were dancing in circles around Rei and Nagisa, until Ran ran off and leapt at Haru before he could turn away from the scene. Ren followed, and they were both hanging on his arms in no time.
"Oniisan!" they squealed, tugging at his wrists.
"We want more pizza!"
"More pizza!"
Haru was already heading for the kitchen anyway, so he allowed them to pull his arms behind him and drag their heels on the floor like they were water skiers.
"More pizza!"
"More pizza!"
"I didn't hear any pleases," he said, as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen, where Makoto was grilling mackerel on the stove.
"Pleeeeease!" they chorused, finally releasing their grip so he could dig into the pizza boxes on the counter.
He felt Makoto look over in his direction with a smile, but didn't acknowledge it.
"What kind do you want?"
"Cheese!"
"There's only one slice of cheese left."
They both shot their hands in the air and crowded around his waist, each of them trying to squeeze their way the closest to the counter as though this would get them what they wanted.
"I want it!" they shouted simultaneously. Then they wrinkled their noses at each other.
"No, I want it!"
"No, I want it!"
"One of you can have pepperoni," Haru said, completely unbothered about being jostled between them as they argued. "Just take the toppings off."
"Aww," Ran whined, pouting. "But it's not the same."
"Yes, it is."
"Nuh uh, you can taste it," Ren argued.
"Fine," Haru sighed. "Whoever brings me their plate the fastest gets the slice of cheese."
They took off immediately, pushing and arguing between each other on their way back to the sitting room. Haru took advantage of the moment to extract a knife from the drawer and cut the one slice of cheese pizza down the middle. Makoto giggled, his eyes on the mackerel, but his smile somewhere else completely.
The twins' feet thundered back through the hallway, along with their mother's voice telling them to slow down. As expected, they rammed into Haru's back at the same time, thankfully not before he had the chance to put the knife down first.
"I won!" they cried in unison.
"No, I won!"
"No, you were too slow!"
Haru dropped both halves of the pizza slice on each of their plates. "There. Congratulations. No running with food in your hands."
They both beamed happily and turned to flounce off again, except that Makoto stopped them with a chiding cough.
"Excuse me, can I hear some manners?"
They both turned halfway and bobbed their heads. "Thank you, oniisan!" they chorused, then disappeared quickly before anyone else could stop them.
Makoto, who had glanced over his shoulder at them, smirked at their backs and shook his head to himself as he turned back to the stove and turned it off. Haru was already preparing a plate with his own long awaited slices of pineapple pizza on it. He handed it over to Makoto.
"You're a natural, you know," he said, sliding the grilled fish directly on top of Haru's pizza.
"I'm glad it seems that way," he said, watching with great anticipation while Makoto insisted on positioning the fish just right. "In reality, it's only taken me something like ten years to get good at dealing with them."
Makoto chuckled, eyes glancing to the side with a spark of approval. "Don't sell yourself short. You've always been good with them."
"Only because I've been watching you do it," Haru mumbled, taking his plate gratefully when Makoto finally handed it over.
The taller teen grinned with quiet appreciation and leaned against the kitchen counter as Haru elected to test Makoto's cooking on the spot. Those green eyes watched, highly anticipant. Haru took a large bite and chewed thoughtfully.
Makoto waited a few seconds, then raised an eyebrow when there was no immediate comment. "Good?"
Haru lifted half a shrug. In truth, it was perfect. Makoto apparently had spent way too many mornings standing over Haru's shoulder, watching him prepare his favorite meal. He had the recipe down to a T — to the number of salt grains in each bite and everything. But the aloof problem child didn't want to make a big deal of it and give this amateur chef a big head.
"It's fine," he said, playing it cool even though he knew Makoto could see right through him.
Makoto snickered through his nose. Haru held the pizza out in front of his mouth and Makoto took a bite. He contemplated it as he chewed, then nodded and turned away to clean off the grill pan.
"It's good … Don't know about the pineapple though."
"The pineapple makes it," Haru said definitively.
Makoto scoffed. "The pineapple … The pineapple that probably came out of a can, not my perfectly grilled fish?"
"I would have made it myself if I knew you were going to complain."
"You were helping Nagisa set up the karaoke machine. I couldn't let you starve. And anyway, you're the one being unappreciative right now."
Haru huffed through his nose, taking his turn to lean against the counter this time, munching with great internal satisfaction on his pizza while Makoto cleaned.
"Fine. Thank you."
"You are very welcome, Nanase."
Haru brushed his eyes over, wrinkling his nose at his best friend, who was already smirking. "How dare you."
Makoto's shoulders shook as he giggled. He looked up with a clueless gaze. "Hm? What's the matter?"
"I draw the line there, you understand. I've been telling you to drop the –chan for years, but you're not about to call me by my last name, especially not in my own house."
Makoto tilted his head, a devious grin splitting his face. "You mean, you actually like it when I call you –chan?"
Haru punched him in the shoulder and Makoto burst into unfiltered laughter, his smile wide and glittering. He was truly handsome when he smiled like that. The butterflies in the stomach thing was something Haru had never truly believed in, because he didn't get the concept, but now that it was nothing foreign, he fully understood what the expression meant.
"You are secretly a tease, and I'm going to expose you one day," Haru threatened under his breath, only making Makoto laugh harder. His knees became weak and he sank down into a crouch, one hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep him from falling over.
"Do your worst," he gasped, hardly able to get the words to come out straight.
Haru shook his head down at him. "You're so going to get it."
Makoto giggled through his nose, then sniffed and pressed the back of his hand to it as though to catch the laughter from falling out.
"Is that a promise?" he said, voice hidden under his palm as his eyes peeked up, shimmering with joyful tears and a flirtatious glimmer.
Haru just stared, their gazes now locked on one another as something tensed between them, except, not at all in an undesirable way. Makoto seemed to realize the implications he'd let slip through his tone, and his face deepened in color. He didn't move, but he did fully press his palm against his mouth as though to be sure he wouldn't embarrass himself anymore.
Truthfully, Haru was just trying not to let on how very excited he'd suddenly gotten in that moment … He liked this side of Makoto.
"I can make it a promise," he said quietly.
Makoto pinched his nose and turned his face away under his arm, but Haru could see the blush rushing up to his ears. "You're making it worse."
Haru's grin curled up quietly. He set down his plate and took a step closer, while Makoto stood to his full height again, still looking in the opposite direction. Haru leaned his hip against the counter, tilting his head at an attempt to peek around Makoto's broad shoulder.
"Was it bad to begin with?"
"Jesus, Haru," Makoto whispered, glancing nervously over his shoulder as though checking to make sure no one was around to see how badly Haru was making him blush.
It was Haru's turn to chuckle. "You get so worked up over the smallest things."
Makoto finally glanced back in his direction. He let out a long breath and forced himself to go back to cleaning, shoulders defensively drawn up. "You make me nervous," he mumbled.
The ebony-haired teenager let his head dip even more. "Why?"
"Haru," Makoto hissed, because they both very well knew the answer to that.
Haru shrugged. "You started it."
Makoto scoffed, relaxing a smidgen. "I did not."
"Did too."
"When?"
Haru adjusted his lean, arm nearly brushing Makoto's. "When you told me you loved me and then jumped into the pool right before our relay," he said in all seriousness, because it hadn't left his mind for a moment all day.
Makoto's cheeks brightened. He bit at the inside of his lip and shifted his gaze away when Haru lifted a questioning eyebrow.
"You want to take it back?"
"No," Makoto said into the sink, his voice small. "I meant it."
Haru kept his gaze where it was and Makoto did his utmost to avoid it. The tension was twice as thick now. Haru wanted to talk about it — wanted to do something about it — but Makoto was being finicky, as though there was still something to hide, when they both knew there wasn't.
"How was I supposed to respond?" he pressed, gaze intentionally severe.
Makoto lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "I don't know. I didn't think that far."
"How would you like me to respond now?"
Makoto swallowed and Haru watched it. He waited, and after a long pause, Makoto's magnificent green eyes turned to meet his blue ones. They stared at each other, fed on one another's souls with ease and without resistance. The kitchen was hot, and the air was hard to breathe, but the pressure was exhilarating. It just made him a bit antsy, that was all. He was ready to have this conversation, both knowing and hoping that it would reach beyond the boundaries of just a conversation. He just didn't quite know what that looked like exactly, and he was eager to find out.
"Haru-chan!"
Makoto yelped with surprise and slapped a hand over his mouth as Nagisa burst into the kitchen. The flustered brunet dipped his head to hide his red skin, free hand clutching tightly at the sink. Haru swept his gaze across the room. Nagisa was oblivious.
"It's your turn!"
"Nagisa," Haru said, his voice more breathless than he had anticipated. "The one condition for letting you bring that obnoxious thing into this house …"
Nagisa whined, dropping his head back. "Haru-chaaan."
"What did I say?"
The blonde pursed his lips and grumbled under his breath.
"I'm not singing," Haru stated.
"Fine." He skipped across the room and snatch Makoto by the elbow. "Then it's your turn, Mako-chan."
"No, no, no," Makoto protested frantically, dragging his feet as Nagisa grunted through his teeth, pulling him with both hands clasped around his arm. "Nagisa, I don't sing."
"Don't be such a scaredy-cat. You probably have the voice of an angel."
"Nagisa!"
But Nagisa was somehow successful at hauling all of Makoto's weight out of the kitchen and pushing him into the sitting room. Haru sighed and followed, silently vowing that he would get onto Nagisa for single-handedly ruining a moment.
There wasn't another one for the next couple of hours, nor was there any room for one as long as Haru's home was teeming with people. He accepted it for now, only because everyone was having fun, and it was an appropriate time to do so, seeing as this was their last moment together as a team.
Somehow, someway, Nagisa played his charm card and managed to get a microphone into Makoto's hand. He was shy about it, at first hardly whispering the song that his brother and sister forced him to pick, but then Nagisa began to wail along in his own microphone and the same chaos that Haru had lingered around to watch before started up again. Ran grabbed Makoto's freehand and swung it around, encouraging him to dance along with the rest of them. Haru smiled, but hid it behind his knees while he sat on the futon in the back, watching. Makoto could feel his gaze, and peeked over his shoulder, only deepening Haru's amusement by acting all embarrassed and lighting up like a stoplight again. But Ren, Ran, and Nagisa wouldn't allow him to quit, so he was forced to perform another three songs.
When he was finally set free, everyone applauded, and he sulked over to Haru's side and plopped down next to him, whining as he hid his face in his hands. Haru patted his back.
They watched the rest of the show from that spot. Eventually, Makoto calmed down and relaxed, leaning back comfortably. Haru crossed his legs at some point, his right knee leaning against Makoto's thigh for a while. The twins bum rushed them once they got bored, and Haru and Makoto each took one and wrestled them down into a tickle fight, where they squirmed and giggled and kicked their feet. Then their adrenaline wore off, and it wasn't long before they were slumped on either side of the boys, Ran's cheek pressed into Haru's ribs, Ren's head in Makoto's lap. Mrs. Tachibana gave it about fifteen minutes before she and her husband came over to relieve them of the twins and told Makoto to let them know when he was settled in for the night. Mrs. Tachibana granted Haru a kiss on the forehead and informed him that they'd already made plans for a big family dinner once his parents officially made it back.
The noise level quieted down, and Nagisa agreed to turn off the karaoke machine in favor of a card game. Coach Sasabe and Amakata-sensei chatted amongst themselves as the five teenagers teased each other and argued about rules. Then Gou gave up when Nagisa insisted he wasn't cheating, and declared she had to get home. Amakata-sensei, who had agreed to drive her, waved her goodbyes to the boys, and Coach Sasabe walked out behind them, declaring that he was leaving the rest of the pizza. Then it was the four swimmers for a long while, flip-flopping between games because Nagisa couldn't make up his mind about what he wanted to do.
"Never have I ever … pet a tiger."
A collective sigh dispersed across the room.
"Nagisa-kun, the point is to try to get everyone else out. You know that right?"
Nagisa was lying on his back on the futon, head hanging upside down over the edge, arm dangling with three fingers up. The heels of his feet were propped up against the wall. The rest of them were lounging on the floor.
"You mean, you've never pet a tiger, Rei-chan?" Nagisa said, a sleepy slur to his words as he peered at Rei with half-lidded eyes.
"Of course I haven't." Rei had his back against the futon, next to Nagisa's head, his legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other. He still had all five fingers up.
"Mm … Haru-chan, Mako-chan? No tigers?"
"That's a joke right?" Makoto said, four fingers raised. He and Haru sat across from the other two, using each other's shoulders for support.
Nagisa let out a drunken giggle and kicked his foot. "You guys crack me up."
"You are so tired," Rei said, shaking his head.
Nagisa tried to lift his head, but didn't seem to have the muscle strength in his neck. "I'm wide awake. It's your turn."
Rei sighed, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Never have I ever … successfully swam backstroke."
Makoto and Nagisa groaned in unison and each put a finger down.
"Cheap shot," Nagisa mumbled.
"Haruka-senpai, you've never swam backstroke?" Rei said, lifting an eyebrow.
"I only swim free."
Nagisa cracked up again. "You're such a liar. You just don't want to admit it, cuz you only have two fingers left."
"I only swim free."
Makoto giggled.
"Alright," Nagisa said, lazily waving a hand over his head. "I'll give it to you. Your turn."
"Never have I ever been six feet tall."
Makoto scoffed. "You can't do that!"
"That's the point of the game."
"Put a finger down, Mako-chan," Nagisa said.
Makoto sighed and consented, knowing arguing against the questionable parameters of this game was pointless. "Never have I ever been to Australia."
"Oooh, backhand!" Nagisa giggled. "Haru-chan, are you out yet?" He attempted to lift his head again.
"I still have one," Haru said mildly, holding up his middle finger.
Nagisa burst into laughter. Rei attempted to hide a chuckle. Makoto gasped and threw his hands over Haru's, forcing his finger down.
"Haru!" he whined.
"That was for you," he said, unable to stifle the snicker that escaped him as he pulled to get his hands back.
Makoto forced Haru's palms together and covered both of his hands with one of his own, pulling them over to hold them captive in his lap.
"Haru still has one. Nagisa, it's your turn."
"Mmm … Never have I ever …"
Nagisa's voice trailed off, and they all looked to him as his arm dropped like a noodle, eyes closed, mouth open.
"Nagisa," Rei called, shaking his shoulder.
Nagisa jolted. "Twenty-five over thirty-six! Forest penguins …" His head dropped again, and he began to snore.
Makoto giggled.
"Alright," Rei sighed, pushing himself to his feet. "Time to go home, Mr. Sunflower." He took Nagisa's arms and tugged on them to flip him over.
"You can leave him," Makoto said, to which Haru slapped his shoulder with the back of his hand. "Ow." He furrowed his brow at Haru, rubbing the sting away. "It's late, Haru-chan. What else are they supposed to do? You are incredible." He didn't mean it as a compliment.
Rei chuckled, already successful at having gotten Nagisa into somewhat of a sitting position. He bent his knees, pulled Nagisa's arms over his shoulders and hiked him up onto his back.
"It's alright," he said, exhaling comfortably as he adjusted the sleeping boy until he was satisfied, then looped his arms under his knees. Nagisa's forehead dropped onto his shoulder. "I'll bring him home. He's supposed to be going out with his family in the morning anyway."
Makoto stood and Haru followed.
"You're sure?" Mother Hen asked, brow bent, hand hovering over Nagisa's back as though afraid he might slip off as Rei made his way out of the room.
"Yep," Rei said, not a concern in the world about having to lug a passed out Nagisa all the way home. "You'd be surprised. Kid usually knocks out five minutes into the train ride on the way home from school. I've lost track of how many times I've done this by now."
Based on Nagisa's track record, Haru was pretty sure most of those times were illegitimate as Nagisa probably faked it often, but he said nothing about it. In fact, something in him got the distinct feeling that Rei already knew that.
Makoto though, kept on asking if Rei was sure all the way up to the front door, and then finally consented to give their runner a hand by sliding Nagisa's shoes onto his dangling feet. Haru grabbed their bags and, upon Rei's instruction, stuffed Nagisa's nearly empty one into Rei's and hung it around them both. Rei tapped the toes of his shoes on the floor to make sure his feet were in and crossed out into the night as Makoto slid the door open for him.
"We'll see you guys Monday," he said, already making his way off the stoop.
"Okay," Makoto called to his back.
They watched him for a moment, still, quiet. And then, just before Rei and Nagisa disappeared into the shadows, Makoto tilted his head.
"Rei!"
Rei turned.
The very corner of Makoto's lips lifted in a perceptive smile. "Is it working?" he said, his tone incredulous but pleasantly so. And all three of them knew what he was talking about.
Haru could just see Rei's shoulders rising and falling, and then he looked over at the curly blonde head on his shoulder. A soft, but incredibly expressive, smile pulled on Rei's lips.
"Maybe a little," he said, his voice barely catchable in the space between them. He turned his eyes back up to them. "But don't you dare tell him that. I'm going to drag this out as long as I can."
Makoto giggled and nodded curtly. "Our lips are sealed."
Rei kicked up his chin and turned on his heel. "Goodnight."
"Let us know when you get home, alright." Makoto waved at his back.
"Will do!"
Makoto stuffed his hand in his back pocket. Haru leaned a palm on the open door. They both watched as Rei and Nagisa's silhouette dissolved into the night, and then they stared out at nothing. An anticipant quiet brushed past their cheeks as the summer breeze skipped through the door frame. The tinkling of wind chimes echoed out through the neighborhood from all different directions. A few abandoned leaves scraped across the pavement and the chirping of cicadas had turned into white noise in the background.
It was a beautiful night, with a clear sky and a bright moon, but they remained where they were, hovering in the doorway on the inside of Haru's house, just watching the night do what it would do as though expecting something interesting to come along and break up the stillness. But nothing did, and so the moment stretched on, until the tension became too needy to be ignored anymore.
Haru let his eyes drift to Makoto, whose green gaze was staring down the path thoughtfully, as though contemplating the short walk home. But he didn't move, and he didn't say anything. Haru made an obvious shift, successfully attracting Makoto's attention. And they found themselves staring again, speaking so many things to one another in their silence that it started to become loud and convoluted.
Haru set his shoulders, took hold of the door handle, and slowly slid it closed, keeping his eyes locked on Makoto, who didn't blink either. He could feel the collective anxiety in each of their heartbeats, like they were electric pulses accelerating with each inch of space that was lost between them. Haru knew Makoto could feel it too, but he kept his expression straight.
They were alone now. And the silence that settled around the house was intensely noticeable.
Haru bit at the inside of his lip as discreetly as he possibly could. He didn't want Makoto to know the extent of the anticipation rushing through his veins right now. He kept it cool, and it took a surprising amount of effort to do so. He was normally very good at this.
"Stay with me," he said quietly, his voice hardly lifting from his tongue.
Makoto's chest rose as he took in a silent breath. He nodded. "Okay," he said, voice just as soft. He finally dropped his gaze and dug in his pocket to pull out his phone. "I'll tell my parents —"
Haru laid a hand over the phone, pushing it down out of the way, because he wasn't going to allow interruptions anymore. He took a step closer. Makoto's eyes lifted to his again, cheeks already blossoming with color.
"No, Makoto," Haru said gently, forcing the words to come out evenly. "Stay with me."
Makoto's jaw fluttered. He did his best to try and read everything behind Haru's gaze, to understand the underside of his tone, and Haru could feel that a part of Makoto soaked in every bit of implication that was there to be recognized, but another part of him was too nervous to admit that. He swallowed, fingers twitching, because Haru's hand remained on top of his.
"We'll … f-figure something out," he said timidly. "When you think about it, Tokyo's really not that far. Maybe we could —"
Haru had long since rolled his eyes. He stood up on his toes and placed a kiss on Makoto's lips. It wasn't long, it wasn't gushing with passion, it wasn't rushed, it wasn't slow, it wasn't even awkward. It was just a soft peck, like the period at the end of a statement, and yet Makoto altogether stopped breathing.
"No, Makoto … stay with me," Haru repeated, truly putting as much definition into each word as he could.
Makoto's face was completely flushed, but after a while, the shock in his gaze mellowed down to a shy glimmer of desire. His eyes dropped to Haru's lips, then darted back up. He was leaning, but Haru was sure he didn't realize it. His lungs seemed to start up again, and his breath was short. He nodded distantly.
"Always, Haru-chan," he breathed. "I'm not going anywhere."
They moved simultaneously this time. Haru propped himself on his toes again and Makoto dipped his head to meet him. Their lips touched with the briefest second of hesitation, and then all reservations quickly dissipated. It seemed to be half instinct, half intention, like blindly finding one's way through a familiar space. He'd never kissed Makoto before, but he knew him so well that reading into his motions — even with his eyes now closed — became a reflex that he didn't realize had been hiding up his sleeve, just waiting for this moment to happen. And Makoto reacted similarly.
They parted their lips at the same time, found the proper way to fit them together, and eased into a rhythm that made Haru's stomach flip backward as Makoto sighed through his nose. The taller of the two slipped his arms around Haru's waist, keeping him supported to adjust for their height difference. Haru's fingers gripped the collar of Makoto's shirt, as though afraid to lose this, though he was sure Makoto was not at all eager to part.
He wasn't sure which one of them did it first, but their tongues came into play very quickly, darting around each other in a delicious dance that made them both shiver. Their breathing was forced to adjust and adjust again, becoming short and heavy because their hearts were beating out of their chests, as though reaching for one another, longing to get closer, be closer, as close as possible.
It was exhilarating, to say the least, and as much as he'd been waiting for it, he couldn't say he was ready for the incredible swell of desire that something as small as a passionate kiss invoked. He wasn't going to complain though, and Makoto's eagerness seemed to match him at about the same level. It sparked, like flames licking their skin, making them tingle, making them dizzy, slightly throwing off their equilibrium.
Haru stumbled forward a bit, but Makoto's arms were so firmly encased around him that he didn't go anywhere. And now their chests were very nearly pressed against each other, their pulses loud.
"Makoto …"
Makoto's response was a weightless moan that hit Haru in the stomach and rolled right down through his hips. He didn't want this to end, didn't even want it to pause, but he knew if he didn't speak now, he wouldn't be able to express it right later.
He pulled back. "Makoto …"
Makoto dropped his forehead against Haru's, unable to speak as he attempted to catch his breath. Haru peeked up through their bangs. The stunning young man holding him was so rosy, so visibly soaked in a yearning he'd never allowed to show before, and it gave Haru chills. He put a grip on Makoto's chin, grabbing his attention again, because he needed him to look, to see how serious Haru was in this moment, how fiercely he felt about him.
"I'm coming with you," he said heavily.
Makoto blinked, chest still heaving.
"To Tokyo," Haru said. "I'm coming with you. There are tons of schools there. Plenty of options for —"
Makoto tackled him, though it didn't seem like he meant to. His eyes had already widened, a broad smile split his face, and then he jumped with a toss of his weight, misjudging the already fragile integrity of Haru's balance, and they fell to the floor. Makoto's weight took the wind out of him, but it was a brief discomfort that dissolved the moment he noticed that Makoto had thought to save the back of his head from hitting the floor. The giddy brunet was laughing with breathless giggles, already pressing a series of kisses onto Haru's mouth.
"I'm sorry!" he gasped. Kiss. "I'm sorry, Haru." Kiss. "I got so excited. I'm sorry."
Haru allowed himself to laugh too, though it was quite airless. The unadulterated joy on Makoto's face made up for every moment of pain he had ever experienced across the entirety of his life. He was quite comfortable, more than so, with the way their legs were tangled together, with the warmth of Makoto's body pressed on top of him.
"Stop apologizing," he said, meeting all of Makoto's frantic kisses.
"I'm sorry," he said again anyway. "Are you hurt?"
He started to push himself up, but Haru snatched his collar to stop him. "No," he said quickly, pulling him back down. "I like this. Stay here."
"Okay," Makoto breathed, without a second's hesitation.
The passionate kissing started again, and the temperature of everything rose very quickly. Makoto's fingers were gripping his hair now, and Haru's hands roamed his torso, evaluating each rise and fall of his carefully sculpted muscles. Because of Makoto's mild and meek demeanor, it was very easy to forget how much literal, physical strength he carried around every day, but Haru could feel it, just in sliding his fingers down the dip in his back, could feel the tension, could feel the control, could feel the potency. He was so attractive, so tempting.
Haru's hands paused on Makoto's waist, gripping his shirt as he dipped in and out of ripples of pleasure, so very aware of the extremely miniscule movements of their hips. So hesitant that it was just barely there, but also incredibly noticeable. His chest began to ache, trying to contain the frantic muscle behind his ribcage. He contemplated, for a while, whether or not to fully commit to it, but such a thing had to be considered carefully, because it could end up flying off in a number of different directions, most of which, he had no problem with. But as it was, Makoto became suddenly still, and pulled away, turning his face to the side as though to hide it.
Haru didn't know what that was about, but he had to catch his breath first, so he rested his head back into Makoto's palm, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for his pulse to leave his ears, trying not to be disappointed with himself for hesitating too long. Then he felt the tremble in Makoto's shoulders. He turned to look at the back of his hair, and caught the motion of Makoto wiping his face.
Haru's brow furrowed. "Are you crying?"
Makoto let out a shaky laugh, but he already gave himself away in just that. Haru could hear it in his voice, and Makoto dropped his face into his palm, covering his eyes, obviously trying to recovery quickly, but it didn't seem to be working.
Haru pushed himself up onto his elbows. "What's wrong?"
Makoto adjusted too. He propped himself on his knees, straddling Haru's waist. He was still trying to wipe the tears away, but now that Haru could see them, they seemed incredibly persistent. Makoto figured this out, and dropped his forehead onto Haru's chest.
"Makoto …" Haru lifted a hand and gingerly ran his fingers through his hair, trying to understand, but really not getting it. He didn't know why this moment would invoke this kind of emotion. Had he done something wrong? Been too blunt? Moved too fast?
"I'm sorry," Makoto said, his voice warbled. He sniffed, rubbing the back of his hand over his cheeks. Haru could still feel some of the tears hitting his shirt though.
"Why are you apologizing?"
Makoto laughed again, and Haru wasn't sure how to read the sentiment behind it. Also, he was even more thrown off when Makoto lifted his head and gave him a wet peck on the lips. Then he sat back, weight lightly resting on Haru's thighs. Haru said nothing, just watched him.
"I'm not sad," the weeping man assured him, passing down a watery smile, still trying to clear his face. A crease appeared in his forehead. "I think I'm just relieved," he sighed, sniffing. He tilted his head back, looking toward the ceiling with shining eyes.
"I've been so unsure about this for years," he admitted. "I don't think there's ever been a moment I wasn't in love with you, and sometimes … it hurt so much." He grimaced and dropped his head again, this time using both hands to cover his face, voice muffled as he continued to speak. "There were days it got so overwhelming, it made me sick. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but I didn't know if you would ever feel the same way. I didn't want to mess up the relationship we had already, so I just kept quiet about it. I was terrified." The next words came out in a moan. "This is like a dream. It's so surreal. I don't want to wake up."
Haru felt a pang of sympathy twist at his heart. Thanks to Nagisa, he had been able to connect the puzzle pieces about Makoto's true feelings, but that had only come together just recently. Poor Makoto had had to sit in an unrequited love for years, embodying everything Haru needed to survive but never being shown the same love and care in return.
Haru's shoulders sank. He reached up and pulled Makoto's hands away from his face, then pinched his chin and pulled him down to kiss the tears away from his cheeks. He slid his hand around to Makoto's hair and pressed their foreheads together.
"You're already awake," he said, closing his eyes and tenderly rubbing the tips of his fingers into Makoto's scalp. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I've been selfish and it's made you miserable."
Makoto shook his head, trying to meet Haru's eyes and deny it. "No, Haru —"
Haru lifted his face and pressed their lips together, just holding them there for a while until he felt Makoto's muscles unravel. He looked up into those beautiful green eyes when he pulled away and exhaled a long sigh.
"I love you." He could see Makoto's heart jumping behind his eyes, noticed his ears immediately burning red, but he went on. "I think I always have. I just … didn't know I was falling in love with you until I realized how scared I was of being separated from you … You're part of my dream, you know."
Makoto's lips trembled, but he smiled. He nuzzled Haru's face affectionately. "You've always been part of mine."
Haru took advantage of their closeness to place another kiss on his lips. He was never going to get tired of doing that. "Thank you for always being there, Makoto."
A strained breath escaped through Makoto's nose and he covered his face again.
Haru chuckled. "No more crying."
Makoto laughed, giving rise to a breathless sob at the same time. Haru found it endearing. He sat up all the way and ducked under Makoto's hands for another kiss, which carried all the same passion but lasted only a moment. Then they wrapped their arms around each other in a comforting embrace and just sat that way for a long time.