Otaru stared up a the ceiling of his bedroom, trying to ignore the nagging thought in the back of his mind that it had been much nicer to have a warm body against his own as he'd drifted off to sleep.
Whether that was the reason or not, Otaru was still awake despite the late hour, wide awake despite all that had happened that day.
He didn't think he'd ever been so proud of someone as he'd been of Mitsurugi as he'd stood up to his father. They'd left only moments after Otaru's own outburst, the brunette taking Mitsurugi's arm and leading him out of the room before his own temper got the best of him and he gave into the temptation to deck the guy again. The man obviously hadn't believed that Mitsurugi would really follow through with his words, throwing insults but not lifting a finger to stop them. Either that, or he truly didn't care if he saw his children again.
Yumeji had packed a bag as they'd asked of him, waiting excitedly by the front door. Hopefully he would never know the reason behind his move, but the child had been absolutely overjoyed. The entire way back to Otaru's house, he'd gone on about being able to spend time with his brother and friends, being able to go outside and run around and play.
How could they of lived their lives like this for so long? Yumeji had never had to carry the same burden that Mitsurugi had, his older brother had made sure of it, but to think that he would be so happy to leave the home he'd grown up in.... Otaru shook his head, pushing the thought to the side. It was over now, they had gotten away from whatever that thing had been, wearing a human body.
A familiar face came into view, and Otaru pushed himself up to a sitting position. Funny, his first instinct had always been to yell at the other to go away. Now, a big part of him was happy to see Mitsurugi standing there. His eyes trailed over the other's face, shimmering white in the light of the moon that stole in through the open window.
Mitsurugi was wearing his usual over-done nightgown but, for once, it didn't annoy him. It looked rather adorable, the way Mitsurugi swam in it, only the tips of his fingers and feet visible in the flowing white fabric. He could see the way it caught on the other boy's hip as he knelt in front of Otaru, and images of what was hidden flashed through Otaru's mind.
Gods, he couldn't believe he was thinking such things!
Yet, he still was, and Otaru could no longer kid himself into thinking that he didn't want to kiss Mitsurugi again, feel that body against his own, hear his name moaned in a way that made him burn just thinking about it. There was no way he could pretend he didn't want to pull the youth into his arms and just hold him all night, letting himself be carried away by the love which Mitsurugi so willingly gave him.
"I wanted to thank you," the blonde said quietly, pulling Otaru from his thoughts. "Without you, I don't think I ever would of escaped him. I never would of been strong enough on my own."
"You would of been," Otaru corrected, his voice equally soft. "You just needed a hand getting started. What you told him, there is no way you would of allowed that to be suppressed forever. We just made it easier for you."
Mitsurugi's eyes slipped away, the blonde absently picking at a piece of fuzz on his night gown. "I love you, Otaru," he said weakly, almost so that Otaru couldn't hear it at all.
"I know," Otaru replied.
The blonde's eyes snapped quickly to him, and Otaru knew Mitsurugi been waiting for his usual, often insulting, turn down. Otaru felt that same pang in his chest at the thought that, after what the two of them had shared, Mitsurugi would still expect the same ignorant response he would of given before.
Things were different now. He had to show Mitsurugi that.
"Come here," he whispered, holding out his hand.
The blonde blinked, shifting closer. Otaru slid him over the rest of the way, pulling Mitsurugi down onto his futon mat and wrapping his arms around the other's slender shoulders. The blonde's cheeks flushed, but he returned the hug.
"I'm not going to be stupid anymore," Otaru breathed against the other's forehead, the realization coming to him even as he spoke the words. "I'm not going to push away the only person in my life who truly loves me. Loves me in the way that is unique and special and that I was too blind to see before. I can never as you to forgive me for all the times I've hurt you in the past, Mitsurugi, but I swear that I'll never hurt you again. I'll do my best to make it up to you, if you'll let me."
Shimmering blue eyes shifted up to meet his own, and Otaru accepted the innocent kiss the other gave him before pulling away and gazing up at him once again. "I could never hold it against you, Otaru," Mitsurugi said softly. "But you can spend as much time as you want making it up to me anyway."
"As much time as in the rest of our lives?" Otaru asked.
Mitsurugi's eyes widened in surprise. "Do you mean that?"
The brunette leaned forward and pressed their mouths together once again. "Yes," he said simply, drawing Mitsurugi closer.
Love? He didn't know for sure. But he suspected so. And the fact of the matter was that he wanted it to be. He would never know for sure if he didn't try, and he couldn't deny that he wanted to wake up every morning with the sense of contentment as he had on that morning.
He wanted this, and the knowledge that it would be true happiness behind Mitsurugi's smile was more than enough of reason as to why.