A/N: At the start of February, I was thinking about how I've never written a Valentine's Day fic before and how much fun it would be to write one, but I had no particular idea lying around. Nevertheless, after thinking and brainstorming for a while, the idea for this (incredibly self-indulgent) fic began to grow so I decided to go for it. It was supposed to be a short fic, something simple that I could finish before Valentine's Day would come, but nothing ever works out the way I plan and while it's still a simple little fic, it's gotten a bit longer than I intended. Because I couldn't finish it in time, I decided to post it on White Day instead.
Happy White Day and I hope you enjoy! ^^
The frigid winter wind was sharp, biting at his reddened nose and exposed ears. Haruka put the hood of his coat up and adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder to prevent it from slipping. His feet dragged behind him as he walked the familiar route from the train station to his apartment, weighed down like he had swum his last laps fully-clothed. But despite the cold, he wasn't in a rush to get home. Not when he'd be met with a dark, empty room anyway.
Still, he shouldn't dawdle. He could practically hear Makoto's voice, nagging him to hurry up because it was dangerous to be out alone so late at night. It brought equal amounts of affection and aching to his chest. If Makoto were here, maybe they could've shared his gloves because Haruka forgot his own more often than not, and stop by the little ramen shop for a late dinner and to take shelter from the elements. But he wasn't.
In the hope of ridding himself of the troublesome thoughts, Haruka sped up his pace. The sooner he got home, the sooner he could bury himself beneath the covers; the sooner this day would be over and this gnarly sensation would leave his stomach.
Today was Valentine's Day, and Haruka hated it. Or rather, he hated that it had to be today.
This was the first Valentine's Day since Makoto and he moved to Tokyo, their first Valentine's Day together. Not the first time they spent it together, they did that every year, but the first time since they had talked about the feelings they'd been harbouring for as long as they remembered. Their first Valentine's Day as a couple and they couldn't even celebrate it with each other.
It wasn't like Haruka'd been looking forward to it specifically. By the time he realised the fourteenth was coming up, their schedules were already clear: he had a late practice with Coach Azuma, Makoto had to work and afterwards, he had to write an important essay. And he thought that was fine. Valentine's Day wasn't that special. If anything, it was a mere marketing stunt to sell chocolate and other trinkets to the enamoured. Besides, why was it even necessary to dedicate a day to love when he loved Makoto for every day of the year?
And yet, when he was grilling his mackerel that morning and received a 'Happy Valentine's Day, Haru-chan' message from Makoto, waves of disappointment crashed upon him. The droplets clung to his body throughout the day and each time he spotted a girl latched onto her partner's arm or heard a teammate boast about the chocolates he received, they transformed into thorns and jabbed at his skin.
There was no denying it. Commercial nonsense or not, he missed Makoto and wanted to be with him. To give him chocolate like he always did, but this time without convincing himself that it was just because Makoto loved chocolate and it was on sale. To watch the joyful smile gracing Makoto's lips as he chewed, and kissing the smudges from the corner of his mouth. To bury his face in his neck and inhale the cologne that could never fully mask the scent of chlorine, and for him to whisper 'Happy Valentine's Day, Haru-chan' in his ear rather than having to read it on a pixelated screen.
Alas, Cupid might've shot straight in their bullseyes - or connected their hearts, as Kisumi liked to put it - but that didn't mean their agendas magically aligned. But in two months, Makoto's leasing period would end and he would officially move in with him, and then they'd be able to see each other every day even if their schedules were packed. They just had to hold on until then.
The lights in the indoor pool were off by the time Haruka passed it, signifying how late it already was. One glance at the building never failed to remind him of Makoto, of his ever-sweet smile as he aided the children with all their qualms, whether they were swimming-related or not. A sight he always longed for, but rarely as much as now. If only his practice could've been held here instead of at his university's pool.
Briefly, he contemplated calling Makoto, so he could at least hear his soft voice and merry laugh, but ultimately decided against it. He shouldn't distract him when he knew he was busy. If he did, Makoto would definitely pick up and entertain his every whim, and that would be nothing but selfish. There were 365 days in an average year, no need to disturb him on one of the few he wasn't available. Valentine's Day would come around again, and he was certain they would be able to celebrate it together many times in the upcoming eighty years.
Contrary to the lights at the swim club, the lights inside his apartment were faintly glowing behind his kitchen curtains. His heart skipped a beat. There were no marks of a forceful entry at the front door, and he highly doubted burglars would be stupid enough to announce their presence to the world, so that left only one other option. One person who possessed a spare key.
Maybe he wouldn't have to wait eighty years after all.
Haruka unlocked the door faster than he ever had before, kicked off his sneakers in the genkan and let his coat and bag plummet to the ground. As expected, on his bed sat the most beautiful man in the entire universe, wearing that plaid shirt he knew Haruka adored and his mouth agape as though he was anticipating a kiss.
Valentine's Day? It was Christmas and his birthday and summer break and so much more at once.
The sound of Haruka barging into the apartment like he was on a heist made Makoto look up from the book in his lap, and his gorgeous eyes lit up behind his glasses. He jumped up and before he could even attempt to say anything, Haruka caught him in a suffocating embrace and the book fell to the floor with an unceremonious thud. Makoto's chest vibrated with a chuckle as he nuzzled his face against his clavicle.
"Welcome home, Haru."
A deep sigh escaped through Haruka's nose as arms engulfed him, held on tight as the words were whispered into his hair. Makoto's large hands traced across his back to warm him, but the instant he saw him, Haruka forgot what the cold even felt like. The fragments of disappointment were flushed away by a flood of serenity and happiness and affection, a current only Makoto could control. Welcome home, indeed.
After at least a minute of revelling in his boyfriend's very being, Haruka pulled back to look at him. "What are you doing here?"
The honeyed smile that was reserved for him alone painted Makoto's face, bringing gold-speckled stars to his grassy eyes. Haruka didn't know what was stronger; the desire to eternalise it in a sketchbook so he could admire it for eternity, or the desire to kiss it right off his face. "Being with you."
His stomach tingled at the sentiment, but a second of contemplation later, the butterflies began to buzz with worry. "But what about your important essay?"
Makoto's smile didn't waver. "I stayed up late last night to finish my essay so I could come here straight after work. I knew you were also busy but… I really wanted to be with you on this day, Haru."
About a week ago, when Makoto first remarked he'd be swamped with work and assignments on Valentine's Day, he'd looked a bit apologetic. Haruka had shrugged it off, so Makoto said they'd spend it together next year for sure. The topic hadn't resurfaced after that, so Haruka thought they were on the same page; it was too bad, but there was nothing that could be done, so no use to make a fuss about it.
And yet here Haruka found himself fussing about it. He'd felt so silly, but it turned out Makoto had been fussing too. It was good to know they were on the same page after all - maybe their hearts truly were connected.
Makoto lifted his finger to scratch at his cheek, awkwardly averting his eyes. "Sorry I didn't tell you about it, but I wanted to surprise you."
Haruka shook his head. While he would've loved to look forward to a romantic evening with Makoto for the entire day - if not the entire week - instead of feeling gloomy, this was better as a surprise. If Makoto had promised him earlier, he might not have been able to realise it, and that would've been an even bigger letdown. There were countless of reunions he could anticipate, but there was nothing that could imitate the swell of adoration and joy the glow of a single light bulb inside his apartment could instigate in him.
At a loss for words, Haruka pressed his forehead to Makoto's chest. There was no way he could spill his heart's content when met with such sincerity in Makoto's gaze, and he tangled his fingers in the back of Makoto's shirt for leverage. "Thank you."
That was all he could get past his lips, but he was sure everything he meant would be conveyed seamlessly.
A loving kiss was planted on the crown of his head, and Makoto squeezed him once for good measure before his hands found Haruka's. "I have something for you. Are you hungry?"
"A little. I haven't had dinner yet." Judging by the lack of prominent smells in the room, there were no pots boiling on the stove nor a bag of takeout waiting on the counter. Whatever Makoto had prepared for him, it wasn't dinner.
"Me neither. I didn't know what time you'd be home so I didn't get us any, but I do have something else if that's okay. We can have dinner afterwards if you'd like." When Haruka nodded in agreement, Makoto released his grip on him. "I'll go get it then. Sit down. You must be exhausted."
The energy his training had drained from his body was invigorated by Makoto's hug, and Makoto was likely just as tired after his own hectic day. But Haruka would be lying if he said he wasn't in the mood to be spoiled by his boyfriend, so he did as he was told and plopped down on the floor with his back against his bed. He'd make sure to return the favour next time.
He watched Makoto's broad back as he scurried around his - in comparison - comically small kitchen, curious as to what he was getting. Given the holiday, Haruka guessed it would be something very sugary and slathered with chocolate, and given Makoto's culinary struggles, it was probably something store-bought. But that was alright; the fact that Makoto even put effort into getting him something was what counted, especially when he hadn't been expecting anything at all. Makoto had always been so considerate, so this shouldn't have come as a surprise, but he was grateful nonetheless.
Makoto returned with a big plate in hand and from Haruka's current vantage point, what was lying on it wasn't visible. "Close your eyes," Makoto said with a whimsical smile. "Don't open them until I tell you to."
Giddiness emerged in his belly, a feeling only Makoto's playfulness could coax out of him. A tiny smile curled his lips as he let his eyelids fall shut.
The clinking of porcelain onto wood sounded out as Makoto set the plate on the table and his feet thumped against the floor as he tramped back to the kitchen. A sweet, chocolatey scent wafted up in his nose, and Haruka's smile widened. So far, one of his assumptions was correct.
After some more stomping and tinkling, Makoto sat down next to him, lightly bumping their shoulders in the process. "Alright, you can open them now."
Haruka's eyes fluttered open and his chest expanded at the sight in front of him. Overwhelmed by a sudden surge of emotion, Haruka bit the inside of his cheek to ground himself. His second assumption was wildly, wildly incorrect.
A large, heart-shaped cake laid on the plate before him. The icing was incredibly messy, the pink-lettered writing nearly illegible which hinted at vast inexperience with a piping bag, and the rose decorations were strewn around without much rhyme or reason. It looked like a cake a seven-year-old made without adult-supervision and was obviously not something bought at a bakery or even a grocery store. And it was the best cake Haruka had ever seen.
'Happy Valentine's Day, Haru'
"Did you make this yourself?" he asked even though the answer was crystal clear; he just didn't know what else to say.
Baking was not Makoto's strongest suit - far from it actually - yet he put in the time and effort to make something for him despite his tight schedule. Every time he thought Makoto had reached the point where he simply couldn't get any sweeter, he managed to beat his personal best, like pure glucose flowed through his veins. This had to be the limit, or else he might melt into the water during his next shift.
"I did," Makoto said, almost abashed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I know I'm not the best at baking, and I'm even worse at decorating but I did my best, so I hope you like it."
Unlike Makoto, Haruka wasn't the biggest chocolate fiend, but it didn't matter. The cake might as well have tasted like dirt for all he cared. Chocolate, dirt, he was going to savour every last bite of this treat regardless.
Still, he couldn't help but tease Makoto a little. "How many tries did it take to make this cake?"
"Haru!" Makoto grumbled, puffing up his cheeks in a way that was far too cute for a nineteen-year-old college student. "I've improved a lot at cooking, you know." When Haruka's piercing gaze didn't falter, he sighed. "Two. But I made it all by myself, from scratch, and this was my first time trying this recipe."
Haruka's smile softened. "That is pretty impressive," he said, and an odd wave of pride washed over him. "When did you even have the time to bake this twice?"
"Last night, during my breaks from writing. Turns out I can actually focus better on essays when there's another task I'm dreading even more."
The comment was followed by a chuckle, and Haruka's heart sang and sank at the same time. "If you were so busy and dreaded it so much, why did you even make it?" he asked, somewhat guilty, but Makoto's expression didn't change; a mixture of dedication and determination.
"Because I wanted to make a treat for you, something we could enjoy together. It's our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I wanted it to be special." His voice was small, like a tender caress to Haruka's eardrums. When Makoto noticed how sappy he was being, he quickly stuttered, "But before you ask, there's no mackerel in it."
In making it special, he succeeded. It was already special the moment he wrapped his arms around him, but this was the cherry on top of the mackerel-less cake. But in contrast to Makoto's ability to express his feelings, Haruka couldn't possibly explain how much this truly meant to him.
"Chocolate cake, chocolate icing, but no mackerel? Is this a treat for you or for me?" he said with an amused huff and the instant the words left his lips, he cringed. It was a joke and he had phrased it as such, but he hated how this was the only response he had ready to Makoto's heartfelt gesture.
Thankfully, Makoto did see the humour in it. "It's for us both!" he laughed as he nudged Haruka with his elbow. "It's Valentine's Day, so it's supposed to be made of chocolate. But if you really want, I can make you some mackerel later. Without chocolate."
The stormy clouds lifted off his heart as swiftly as they drifted towards it. He'd been worried about nothing, as usual; of course Makoto wouldn't bat an eye at his unintentional crudeness. Makoto knew him better than he knew himself and loved him despite his flaws. He could always be himself with him, say anything that was on his mind, and Makoto could around him, too. That was one of the many pillars of support their relationship rested upon, the foundation they'd been building since they were kids. How could he ever doubt that?
"Sounds great," Haruka said, assured enough to tease him some more, "If you don't mistake the salt for sugar again."
"I won't! I've been practicing you know, and I've learned my lesson," Makoto defended, but then he giggled again. "Though I must admit that the first cake was a failure because I mixed up the flour and baking soda."
"So you haven't learned your lesson at all?"
"I have. Flour and baking soda are completely different from salt and sugar," Makoto claimed, and Haruka couldn't stop himself from grinning.
"Fair enough," he mumbled as he trailed his hand over Makoto's thigh, seeking to interlock their fingers. Teasing Makoto was fun, and he still had so much to learn about cooking and baking but he'd come a long way. Credit was due, so Haruka wanted to give it. "Thank you, Makoto. You didn't have to do all this, but you did and I… thank you."
Makoto smiled and raised their hands to his mouth. "You're welcome," he said and he kissed Haruka's knuckles.
His message had clearly gotten through to Makoto, yet Haruka felt like it wasn't enough. What he lacked in words, he made up for in actions, so he tugged Makoto closer by the arm and pressed their lips together.
Every kiss they shared was special in its own regard, and this one, though chaste and fleeting, was no exception. It was a reunion kiss, a gratitude kiss, an appreciation kiss, but above all an affection kiss. He'd been hoping for it all day but firmly believed it wouldn't come, so now it was finally here, he would make sure to savour this, too.
When their lips parted, Makoto's eyes twinkled with awe as he nuzzled his nose against Haruka's. All the love he poured into the motion seeped into Haruka's pores, sent through his bloodstream to his entire body until his muscles absorbed it, providing him with strength. Each hug, each nuzzle, each kiss, each saccharine word murmured to his ear made him feel like he could swim across the ocean, from Asia to America, King of the Seven Seas. If he could conquer Makoto's treasured heart, he could conquer the world.
A loud growl yanked him from his reverie, unsure of whose stomach produced the sound. Makoto chuckled again.
"How about we eat some cake now, and continue this later?"
Haruka nodded, the corners of his mouth curling up without conscious effort. "Sounds like a plan."
After taking off his glasses, Makoto picked up the large knife he brought from the kitchen and Haruka swallowed a reminder to be careful. With the blade hovering above the cake, Makoto hesitated. "I… don't know how to cut this cake into even pieces."
"I do," Haruka said and grabbed the knife. Then, without a second of contemplation, he sliced the cake straight through the middle. "There."
A noise somewhere between a laugh and a gasp of offense left Makoto's throat. "Now it's a broken heart!"
Haruka shrugged. "Who cares? We're going to eat it anyway," he brushed off, but then he mumbled, "Besides, it's not broken. Broken hearts have cracks in the middle. We just have two halves of one whole heart."
"You're right," Makoto said, "But still, we can't eat half a cake. We haven't even had dinner yet."
At first, Haruka wanted to say they could have this and forgo dinner all together, but then he remembered Makoto promised to make him some mackerel later and he complied. From each half, he cut an even slice and placed it onto a smaller plate. And despite his affinity towards chocolate, Makoto let Haruka have the first bite.
The cake was not exactly spongy, a bit too wet for Haruka's liking, and very rich in chocolate. Or rather, an overload of chocolate, assaulting his taste buds and lingering on his tongue, to the point he feared even his mackerel - which had been promised to be chocolate-less - would taste like cake. And still, it was rather nice. What Makoto lacked in skill, he made up for in love, and he steeped in so much it was the second most prominent flavour.
"It's good," Haruka said, sounding more surprised than he probably should have.
Makoto beamed. "Thanks! It's not as good as your chocolate cakes, but I tried really hard to at least make it taste decent so I'm kind of proud."
"You should be," Haruka said, heat sprouting in his cheeks, "You did a good job, and I appreciate it so… thanks."
Again, that honeyed smile graced Makoto's lips, his eyes squeezing shut as he tilted his head in that adorable habit of his. "You're welcome, Haru-chan."
Blinded by his radiance, Haruka averted his eyes and picked at his cake with his fork. Besides a lovely gift, it was also a good distraction from his heart hammering against his ribcage. Even though they'd been together for longer than he could recall, Makoto's handsome face and beautiful character could still catch him off guard. He truly was sweeter than candy, so Haruka would let him get away with the childish nickname just this once.
"That reminds me," he said after clearing his throat with a cough, desperate to change the subject, "Do you remember that time, on your birthday, when you begged your mom to let us have cake before lunch?"
"Yeah," Makoto mumbled, almost inaudible through his full mouth. "I believe it was my sixth birthday?"
Haruka hummed in confirmation. "You wanted to have it for breakfast, but that was a step too far so your parents settled on lunch as a compromise."
Despite it being over thirteen years ago, he remembered it vividly. His birthday fell on a Sunday and they'd had a sleepover the night before. On Saturday afternoon, Makoto's parents took them to the cinema for a movie Makoto was dying to see and after dinner, the four of them played board games all evening - Mrs. Tachibana wasn't even pregnant with the twins yet.
After a cup of steaming cocoa, they were tucked into bed and Makoto was so excited he couldn't catch sleep, like the long, winding day that preceded hadn't happened. Haruka, on the other hand, lost consciousness the instant his head hit his pillow, and he kept being awoken by Makoto whispers of 'Haru-chan, are you awake?' and 'Haru-chan, are you sleeping yet?'. When Haruka grunted in denial, he talked some more, until he noticed Haruka was nodding off again. Rinse and repeat. Haruka hadn't minded it, though. He already thought Makoto's furor was endearing back then.
The huge grin he'd worn when he woke up and received his first present was embedded in Haruka's mind, and visualising it brought warmth to his belly. He was so glad they got to grow up alongside each other, that he could now see a grin more subdued but no less adorable lighting up Makoto's face. He'd do anything within his might to make sure they'd grow old alongside each other too, so he could watch that grin throughout every phase of Makoto's life, until it imprinted his flawless skin with permanent lines and wrinkles.
Makoto's voice pulled him from his daydreams. "My mom cut off only a small piece for each of us so we'd still eat actual food afterwards," he laughed, taking another bite, "It was smart, because I was so happy I got cake that I didn't even notice."
"And then we got another small piece after lunch, when your family came to visit."
"It was a lot of fun," Makoto said, smiling softly as he looked up at the ceiling in nostalgia, and it was. Makoto's birthdays had always been a blast. Then he turned his head to meet Haruka's gaze. "And this is, too. Even if it's only briefly, I'm really glad we got to spend this night together, Haru."
"Wait," Haruka said, eyebrows furrowing, "What do you mean, briefly? You're staying over tonight, right?"
"Of course," Makoto assured, "I just mean… I wish we could've spent the entire day together, you know? Waking up by your side, going out on a date together, falling asleep in your arms, things like that."
Haruka's heart ached at the thought of it. "Me too," he said, but then he smiled. "We can still do that."
That made Makoto frown. "How?"
"We can pick a day we're both free and have our Valentine's Day date then. I mean, it doesn't have to be for Valentine's Day, it can also be a regular, not holiday-specific date. We don't really go on dates anyway."
"That's because we've always done everything together, so it's hard to tell what qualifies as a date and what doesn't."
"True…" Haruka hadn't given it any thought before. What even made a date a date? Planning it and looking forward to it? He looked forward to doing things with Makoto before their relationship became official too. Going to a certain place? There was no place he wanted to go they hadn't been yet. Was simply being together enough? Then they went on dates nearly every single day.
His turmoil showed on his face, because Makoto's hand found his and he said, "I guess it doesn't really matter. As long as we're together, I'm happy."
"You're right," Haruka said, and he leaned up to steal a kiss, just because he could. It wasn't like them to be concerned about trivial things like that. "We'll pick a day for our not-date later."
Makoto nodded and blessed him with another gentle kiss, cupping Haruka's jaw and caressing his cheek. The taste of chocolate was prominent on his delicious lips, and Haruka hadn't ever enjoyed its flavour like he did now.
Once they broke apart, Makoto rested his forehead against Haruka's and sighed in satisfaction. His breath tingled against Haruka's skin and he let his eyes slip shut to revel in this feeling.
"Hey, Haru?" Makoto murmured after a moment of silence. When their gazes met, he continued, "I actually have something else for you, too. Do you want to have it now or should I save it for our not-date?"
Thinking it would be another one of his addictive kisses, Haruka said, "I want to have it now," and closed his eyes again in anticipation.
But contrary to what he was expecting, Makoto broke away and got up, taking his warmth with him. Surprised, Haruka looked up and turned his head to follow him back to the genkan, where his backpack lied discarded. Out of it he pulled a small, red gift bag and Haruka's heart made a somersault inside his ribcage. On top of baking him this overly-sweet cake, he also bought him something?
With a soft thud, he plopped down next to Haruka again. "Here," he said, pink flush dusting his cheekbones, and he held out the bag.
"Makoto…" he said in astonishment. "But I don't have anything for you."
"That's okay, you didn't know I was planning this." A soft smile curled Makoto's lips. "And even if you had, you still don't have to get me anything."
"But I-"
"Just take it, Haru," Makoto interrupted, sweeping Haruka's protests off the table with a kind yet urging look, and he shook the bag for emphasis.
Haruka huffed. It wasn't like Makoto got him something because he expected anything in return and he knew that, but the fact that Makoto had gone above and beyond while he sat here empty-handed didn't feel right. But Makoto's smile didn't waver, and whenever he saw that expression painted on Makoto's beautiful face, he couldn't do anything but mirror it.
"Thanks," he said as he accepted the gift. "I'll get you something on White Day."
The bag's strings were tied together to conceal its contents. Once Haruka disentangled the knot, he reached inside without looking to build suspense, more so for himself than for Makoto.
The first thing he felt was thin and rectangular, edges rather harsh for such soft paper. An envelope. And upon that realisation, he immediately grabbed it and pulled it from the trenches, so stunned by the idea Makoto got him a card he forgot to check if it was accompanying a gift - if Makoto's 'something' was simply a card, he probably wouldn't have bothered to put it in such a fancy bag. Common sense had exited Haruka's brain the moment he saw Makoto sitting on his bed, though, so this deduction was not made.
The red envelope made Haruka's blood rush with anticipation. In black ink and Makoto's prettiest handwriting, it read "Haru" with a tiny heart next to it.
Touched, his eyes wandered back to Makoto's handsome face. The shade of his blush matched the envelope at this point and it was incredibly endearing. "Can I open it now?" Haruka asked, dying to know what Makoto had written but also wanted to respect his reservations.
"Yeah," Makoto said as he studied his nails, and he hadn't sounded this shy since he was twelve. "Go ahead."
Haruka lightly squeezed his forearm in a reminder he had no reason to feel bashful, because it was just the two of them. Yet, the fact Makoto, who always knew exactly what to say, was feeling a bit bashful about something he presumably wrote inside a card made Haruka even more curious.
The envelope was tucked neatly inside itself, so Haruka could slide it open easily rather than tearing it apart by force. A soft smile spread across his face when he saw the image on the front of the card.
A heart-shaped box lied on its side to accommodate two little kittens - one orange, the other grey - huddled close together. 'Hugs and kittens!' it said beneath the image, and Haruka's smile widened. It was them.
So far, the card was perfect, and of course it was: Makoto had picked it out. Anything he would've selected would be great, but this one was certainly special - as was Makoto.
Haruka stared at the picture for so long he almost forgot the real treat was the message written inside. When he remembered this, he quickly opened it and his eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets.
Makoto hadn't simply written a cute little message asking him to be his Valentine. No, he wrote another essay, filling out both sides of the card. The characters were written just so everything that was on his mind could fit onto the thick paper, tiny but still legible.
Haruka's eyes darted over the words and he quickly went back to the top in fear of spoiling it for himself. After taking a deep breath, he began to read.
Dear Haru,
Of all the holidays, Valentine's Day is probably the most redundant one. Why only spend one day celebrating love when you can celebrate it all year round? And yet, I've always rather liked it. Not because it involves a lot of chocolate (though that is one of the reasons), but because it's important to share your thoughts and express your feelings. It's our first Valentine's Day since we've talked about our feelings for each other, so today, I want to take the opportunity to thank you.
Over these past couple of months, our lives have changed immensely. We've graduated from high school and moved to a big, unfamiliar city, without our friends and family, without the comfort of home. At least, that was what I thought at first, but I've come to realise that home is not a place.
Our paths have diverged as we're both working towards making our dreams come true, but we're still walking hand-in-hand, just like we always have. Although so much has changed, no matter what happens, there's one thing I'm certain of: you will always be with me and together, we can overcome anything.
Thank you, Haru. Without you, I never could've gotten this far. Or rather, I wouldn't have wanted to get this far. This past year has been the best of my entire life, and I'm confident that the future ahead of us will be even brighter.
I love you so much, Haru-chan, more than I could ever put into words. Not just for today, but also for tomorrow, and every tomorrow after.
With endless love,
Makoto
Tears welled up as Haruka absorbed Makoto's heartfelt message and he bit his bottom lip harshly to keep them from spilling. A year ago, perhaps even a couple of months ago, he would've mumbled an expression of gratitude and stormed outside without his coat, desperate to blow off some steam. And though his feet still felt like running, his arms wanted to embrace this feeling and never let go.
When every word got through to him, Haruka turned and drew Makoto in for a hug, jabbing the edge of the card into his broad back as he buried his face in his shoulder. Haruka sniffed deeply, because even if he had grown so soft since his lips first met Makoto's, he wasn't sappy enough to cry over a Valentine's Day card - though the fight to hold back the waterworks was a real tough one.
Only once he felt like he regained control of his emotions did he dare to speak. "Makoto," he said, clutching at the back of Makoto's shirt, "I love you too."
A doting kiss was dropped onto his hair. "I love you," Makoto replied and Haruka would never tire of hearing it. "Thank you for everything."
Haruka shook his head fiercely as he pulled back to look at Makoto, and the concern of his possibly red-rimmed eyes vanished. "Thank you. I… You really don't know how much this means and I… I feel the same way."
In spite of his stuttering, his own message was conveyed clearly; unrivalled fondness filled Makoto's gaze. "I'm glad. Once I wrote it, I thought it was kind of embarrassing, but I mean every word so-"
"It's not embarrassing," Haruka cut in before Makoto could fall into his habit of self-deprecation. "If you're sincere, nothing you write or say can ever be embarrassing."
Makoto's eyebrows were raised in surprise, but then the ever-sweet smile graced his cheeks once more. "I guess you're right."
"I always am," Haruka joked and to return to a more serious note he murmured, "Thank you, Makoto."
Because there was nothing else he could give him - and because he wanted to - Haruka kissed Makoto again, long and deep. His arms tightened around his neck, still unaware he was slowly spearing Makoto with the kitten card, as he lost himself in his love.
Makoto's hands found his waist with ease, slipping under his hoodie and shirt to trace patterns on his lower back. Fire ignited beneath his fingertips, searing Haruka's skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Craving more, Haruka tangled his free fingers into Makoto's hair and leaned closer and closer until he was practically seated in Makoto's lap.
Passion blasted through his veins, driven more by affection than wanton - though the latter was never absent. And yet, disappointment erupted in his stomach when Makoto withdrew his hands and ended their kiss. After yearning for his lips all day, he had wanted to take his time to properly appreciate their softness and indulge as much as he could, and this wasn't nearly enough to satisfy him.
His chagrin was noticeable, because Makoto chuckled and playfully nudged his nose. "I'd love to continue this the entire night," he said, caressing Haruka's spine over his clothes, "but don't you want to open the gift first?"
Haruka's eyes grew wide. The gift. It was incredibly stupid, but the card and dear words swept him off his feet so hard his head crashed to the floor and the gift completely slipped from his mind. "I do," he stumbled, afraid his forgetfulness would come off as disinterest or ungratefulness - another baseless worry.
With a mental promise to return to it later, he scurried off Makoto's lap and placed the card onto the table, next to their plates of half-finished cake. He reached inside the bag blindly again and found a box so small it could fit into the palm of his hand.
A million thoughts shot through his brain the instant he felt it; he might've lost his common sense and viable brain cells throughout the night, but he knew exactly what was in this box before he even revealed it to the light.
The most plausible assumption was quickly disregarded: no, Makoto was not proposing to him. They'd only been together for a couple of months, and although he had already spent his entire life with Makoto and knew they'd be together until death forced them apart - and perhaps even after that - they were a bit too young, too busy and most of all too broke to get married. When the time inevitably came for Makoto to propose to him, he'd prefer it to be a bit more personal and romantic than handing him a bag with a ring box in it. That was, if he didn't beat Makoto to it.
After that option was scrapped, no others he could think of remained beside it just being a gift, but knowing Makoto, he put more thought into it than that.
Unable to wait for his questions to be answered, Haruka removed the box from the bag and ran his fingers along the smooth top. He peered at Makoto from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction. Expectancy elevated Makoto's cheeks and Haruka cracked open the box.
A silver ring shaped like a dolphin sat inside, the underside of the snout connected to the tail fin to complete the circle. It was subtle and delicate, and a small stone gleamed inside the dolphin's eye, resembling a sapphire. Although Haruka didn't particularly care about accessories - and rings were no exception - this one was very beautiful and fitting, something he could even see himself wearing.
Whether everything Makoto picked out was perfect because he knew him so well or if everything became perfect because Makoto had carefully selected it, Haruka didn't know. It was probably a mix of both.
Before he could say anything, Makoto began to ramble. "I hope you like it; I know jewellery isn't really your thing, but when I was looking for gifts for you, I didn't know what to get. I wanted to give you something you'd actually like and would use, but just giving you another swimsuit seemed so cliché and unromantic so I didn't know what to do. But then I found this ring and it reminded me of you, and I was torn because-"
"Makoto," Haruka interrupted, and the clear sound of his voice made Makoto abruptly shut his mouth. He plucked the dolphin out of its clutch and put it on his ring finger, then switched it to his middle finger; it took a bit more force to push it past his knuckle, but he didn't want to risk losing it and preferred the snug fit against his skin. "It's beautiful, I love it."
A sigh of relief passed Makoto's lips. "I'm glad."
"I love it, but," Haruka repeated, curiosity bubbling up, "Why did you pick it? You know I would've been fine with some canned mackerel too, so you didn't have to go out and spend all that time and effort looking for something."
"But I wanted to spend time and effort looking for something," Makoto blurted. The heat returned to his cheeks and he bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. "It's my first real Valentine's Day gift to you, and I wanted it to be something romantic. Something meaningful. It's still a few months until we move in together, so in the meantime, I wanted to give you something you could take with you wherever you went that maybe reminded you of me a little."
Haruka's heart fluttered against his sternum at those words. Truly, he would've been happy with a cliché swimsuit or an unromantic can of mackerel too, but this was extra special. He had a ton of adorable photos on his phone he looked at for moral support and his apartment was filled with keepsakes, but this ring would be a great addition to his ever-growing 'things-that-remind-me-of-Makoto' collection. "Thanks. I'll make sure to wear it as often as I can."
An appreciative, puppy-like smile appeared on Makoto's handsome face. "The lady at the store said water is fine so you can bathe and wash your hands with it, but chlorinated water can discolour the silver so you'll have to take it off during practice."
Haruka nodded in understanding. Regardless of the state of the metal, he planned to take it off while swimming and bathing anyway. The last thing he wanted was to lose it down the drain or in a pool filter. "It must've been expensive," he remarked as he thumbed at the dolphin's snout and eye.
"It wasn't that expensive," Makoto said, "I don't think the stone is real- not that you're not worth an expensive ring with a real stone, but-"
"Makoto," Haruka cut him off again. "It's fine. Real or not, it's pretty and I love it and that's all that matters."
Perhaps it was an unpopular opinion, but the cheaper the gift Makoto got him, the better. Neither of them were very materialistic, and he'd rather get something that was cheap and fake and looked nice than something that was expensive just for the sake of it. If the outcome was the same, he preferred for Makoto not to waste too much money on him. That would only make him feel guilty. After all, it was the gesture that counted, not the price tag.
And although he did want to know how much Makoto spent on this ring exactly, the last grains of his human decency told him not to ask. If Makoto said it wasn't expensive, then he believed him. What he did know for sure was that it was a million times more valuable to him than it would be to anyone else.
The light danced on the metal as he studied the ring closely, because he couldn't stop admiring it. Then, his attention drifted to the remnants of the cake lying on his plate and the card perched up beside it, and neither the kittens nor the words written inside it had left his mind. His heart lurched and he sighed.
"You raised the bar too high. Now I really have to step up my game on White Day."
At that blunt statement, Makoto let out a bellowing laugh. "You don't have to get me anything," he assured, "I told you, just being with you is enough. More than enough, actually."
"You can't come into my apartment and do all of this and then expect me not to do anything for you in return," Haruka argued as he put the box on the table and inched closer to Makoto. "So you better mark that down in your agenda."
"I will. I'm already looking forward to it," Makoto said, tucking a strand of hair behind Haruka's ear before he cupped his jaw.
"You better." Haruka smirked teasingly, lips a breath apart from Makoto's as he peered straight into the glade of his soul. "I can't promise it'll be as good as this, though."
Where Haruka's eyes were shining with mischief, fondness prevailed in Makoto's. "I told you, as long as we're together, I'm happy." With his gentle grip on his face, he drew Haruka in for a kiss. "Bonus points if we get to do a bit of this, too."
"I don't know," Haruka said as he leaned his forehead against Makoto's, not breaking their eye-contact. "You'll have to convince me on that. Maybe show me what's so great about it?"
Makoto grinned. "Gladly," he whispered, and he captured Haruka's lips in a searing kiss.
They shared kisses deep and tender, arms holding on tight and nails tickling at slivers of exposed skin. This was what Haruka had been hoping and wishing for, and to say he was pleased with the result would've been an understatement. It was crazy how even after so much time, Makoto could still make butterflies multiply in his stomach with a mere glance, a squeeze of his hand, a flick of his tongue and a nibble on his sensitive lip. If love and affection were magic, then Makoto was the most powerful sorcerer in the realm, if not the universe.
Only once Makoto had extracted all the air from his lungs and he was on the verge of needing to be resuscitated did Haruka pull back. He panted lightly as he rested his head against Makoto's collar bone. Makoto had definitely convinced him. In fact, he did such a good job that, despite him being winded, Haruka hadn't nearly had enough of him yet. The night was still young, and Haruka was ready to take this somewhere else.
"Come on," he said when he caught his breath. He stood from his spot on Makoto's lap, that he had slowly maneuvered himself into during their heated exchange, and he tugged Makoto up by his arm.
Startled, Makoto asked, "Eh? Where are we going?"
"Bathroom," Haruka said, "I want to take a bath."
"But what about dinner? We haven't even finished the cake yet."
"Later," Haruka mumbled as he tugged his hoodie over his head. Even though the prospect of having a grilled mackerel in front of him was a nice one, at that moment there was nothing he wanted more than to cuddle with Makoto in the tub and submerge himself in both the water and their love.
Knowing there would be no chance of winning a discussion that involved water in one way or another, Makoto simply shook his head in endearment as he shrugged off his shirt.
The warm water soothed his tired muscles, but not as much as the torso pressed to his back. It was a tight fit, the two of them packed together in his narrow bathtub, but with their knees folded up and their bodies snuggled closely together, they could make it work.
A sigh escaped Haruka's nose as he threw his head back against Makoto's shoulder, eyelids slipping shut in contentment. The weight of Makoto's arms around him combined with the occasional kiss pressed to a random patch of skin, in the encompassing embrace of the water, made him feel cherished and secure. As far as Haruka was concerned, this was the height of luxury.
The smile that had been inside his heart since he arrived at his doorstep was now present on his face, unerasable. Lately, he found himself smiling more and more often, and why wouldn't he be? For the first time in his life, all the dominos fell into place, lining up almost perfectly: friends, family, school and practice, and even love, which had become a much more prominent part of his life than he ever could've imagined. There wasn't anything else he could ask for, except perhaps, a bit more spare time to spend with Makoto, but that wish would come true before they knew it. Until then, he would enjoy every moment he got with Makoto - not that he ever did otherwise.
White Day was a month away, the chance for him to return the favour. The mere thought made him feel giddy. He dragged his finger over the surface, sending ripples through the water as he pondered about what exactly he should plan for that special day, because the bar really was set high.
If Makoto didn't have to work and he could get out of practice, they could visit the aquarium and watch the blobfish and tiger sharks all afternoon. He could get Makoto the little clownfish snowglobe he'd been staring at the last time they went, and afterwards, they could go back to his place for dinner; Makoto said he wanted to be able to kiss him and Haruka would attend to his every whim, so having the second half of their not-date at home was a good solution.
Of course, green curry would be on the menu, but dessert was still a mystery. Though chocolate cake or brownies would've been his usual choice, he didn't want Makoto to feel like he was trying to outdo him. Therefore, he'd aim to make something completely different yet just as tasty.
Macaroons could be a good choice: they ate some at a café they went to last week and Makoto still brought up how good they were. Haruka hadn't made them before, but he never backed down from a challenge - especially not if it was for Makoto. Cheesy as it might be, he could even try to make them heart-shaped, like Makoto's cake. He made a mental note to look up some recipes later.
Taking a bath after dinner would be nice too, like they were doing now. That was a bit self-indulgent, but surely Makoto would have no complaints. To make it a bit more unique and luxurious, he could get some bath salts; he didn't have the funds to take Makoto on a trip to the hot springs, so maybe he could bring a touch of hot springs to his bathroom. His smile widened just thinking about it.
But then it shrunk again, because next up was the toughest part: the card and the gift. He had never been good with words so writing a card that was half as meaningful and heartfelt as Makoto's was an impossible task. Same with the gift, Makoto had already snatched away the number one item on the list and copying that would be lame and lazy. There was nothing he could think of that could compare, nothing that would be able to convey his feelings; the snowglobe was nice, but he also would've gotten it for him for any other occasion. It was no response to a ring.
"Hey, Haru?"
Makoto's velvety voice brought him back to the bathroom and he automatically turned his head. The plans and worries vanished from his mind upon seeing the expression painted on his beautiful face. It was soft and loving yet so striking simultaneously, Haruka's fingertips began to itch for a pencil and paper or anything that could capture this view. If he were able to copy it onto a canvas, then it would be a portrait museums fought over to add to their collection. A national treasure.
Perhaps that could be it. He'd never been good with words, so instead, he could pour his emotions into something visual, something he could create with his own hands. A portrait, or rather a painting. Of the two of them, because even if he wasn't eager to paint himself, that was what Makoto would probably prefer. Maybe add a cat or two to the picture, or incorporate their aquarium date into the image… he was going to have to make some sketches later.
"Haru?" Makoto repeated.
Haruka shook his head to tug himself back into the moment. "Hm?"
"You know, I was thinking…" he trailed off, scratching at his cheek as he averted his gaze. "It's Valentine's Day, but I haven't asked you to be my Valentine yet."
That was right. He'd been so distracted by this whole surprise he hadn't even noticed. Trying his hardest to maintain a neutral expression, he quirked his eyebrow and said, "You haven't."
"I hope it's not too late to ask now," Makoto chuckled, and when he saw the expectant look in Haruka's eyes, he smiled. His large hands found his as he murmured. "Will you be my Valentine, Haru?"
Haruka bit his lip as a last resort, but he couldn't hold back any longer and a wide grin broke through. "Did you think you could have anyone else as your Valentine?"
"No," Makoto said without a second of hesitation. "I wouldn't want to have anyone else. Only Haru-chan."
"Well, maybe if you stopped with the '-chan' I would consider it."
"Alright, Haruka," he said with a smirk, wanting to get a reaction out of him and a reaction he got; Haruka's heart skipped a beat and his cheeks grew warm.
Nevertheless, he didn't want to admit what Makoto could do to him by simply saying his name, so he feigned aloofness. "Alright, Makoto," he said with the same intonation, "I'll be your Valentine."
"Good," Makoto replied as he raised their entwined fingers to his mouth, locking Haruka into place with a captivating look, "because I wouldn't want you to be anyone else's, either." To emphasise his point, he kissed his knuckles.
Haruka's grin turned from playful to mischievous. "Is that why you gave me the ring? To show everyone that I'm taken, that I'm yours?"
Instantly, Makoto's face turned beet red, to the point he seemed seconds removed from bursting into flames. At this rate, this day would end with a visit from the fire department. "I- No, I…" he stuttered, but Haruka mimicked the urging look he'd worn a handful of seconds ago and Makoto couldn't deny it. "It wasn't the main reason but…" he mumbled, peering down at the water like a child caught eating cookies right before dinner, "it may have been a contributing factor."
Although he tried to hold it in, Haruka snorted rather loudly.
"Haru!" Makoto whined in protest, facing away from him with his bottom lip protruding in an adorable pout.
"Sorry," Haruka huffed in amusement, then he smiled. "Do you want me to wear it on my ring finger, then?"
"No, it's fine," Makoto said, the mask of fake annoyance slipping automatically, "You should wear it where it's most comfortable."
Haruka nodded, but the teasing side of him resurfaced at Makoto's innocent expression. He let go of Makoto's hands, turned so he was facing Makoto and sat on his knees in front of him, snaking his arms around his neck. "Now I know what to get you for White Day."
"Hm?" Makoto asked as his hands found the small of Haruka's back and gently pulled him closer. "And what is that?"
"A collar."
Makoto laughed as Haruka grazed a finger over his throat and the merry sound caramelised Haruka's blood. "With a tag that says 'Property of Nanase Haruka'?"
"You better not give me more ideas," Haruka whispered with a disapproving shake of his head and when Makoto laughed again, he couldn't help but chuckle along.
Smiles were left in the wake of laughter, and Makoto pressed his forehead to Haruka's, fondness glittering in his irises. "I love you."
Haruka nuzzled their noses together, heart overflowing with affection as he murmured, "I love you too."
As he traced his nails down Haruka's spine, Makoto leaned in for another kiss and Haruka sighed against his mouth. His eyes naturally fell shut and he wove his fingers through Makoto's wet locks, determined to stay like this until the water ran cold.
He truly did love Makoto so much, and not just for today either; for tomorrow, and every tomorrow after.
A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
You can find me on Twitter, Tumblr, and Curious Cat, all at DatHeetJoella between fic posts for more MakoHaru content.
Thanks again for reading, I hope to see you again in the future and for now, I wish you all a lovely day! :)