The seasons changed but Haruto didn't. The winter he almost, sort of, kind of confessed to L-elf went into January, where he was allowed to refer to him as Mikhail. They continued their tradition of making dinner at home once a week and even began to do it more often. Mikhail got a part time job at a convenience store at first. Q-vier, going by Robin all the time now put in a good word for him and got Mikhail a job at Inuzuka's company.

So Mikhail was working in the mail room when his eighteenth birthday came in May. Robin was still trying to seduce (or rather romance) Inuzuka with very little progress. Mikhail did so well in his job, Inuzuka ended up giving him a secretary job just a few months after. While they continued their daily life in that little apartment, Mikhail began to look up residential listings for his own place.

As he was no longer under Haruto's guardianship, he saw no reason to continue living there. And his salary paid him a pretty penny. Fall came around and he had nearly enough for the place he wanted. Haruto hadn't tried to confess his feelings again yet but he made his intentions clear with the loving way he treated Mikhail.

Inuzuka was steadfastly denying any and all romantic gestures from Robin. The boy was only fifteen, after all. When fall began he had Robin attend a private school to expose him to more kids his own age and hopefully end this. To everyone's surprise, he made many friends, but that might've been due to his situation as the adopted son of a rich man more than anything.

By then, it had been about five months since Mikhail had turned eighteen. He wondered what Haruto was waiting for to ask him out. He wondered if he was waiting for the year to end. But Mikhail had only said to wait a year before confessing, with the idea to use that time for courting and dating. Then again, that man was dense. Perhaps he didn't understand.

If that was the case, he was too stupid for Mikhail to even be with. Once he moved out on his own, that would most likely bring an end to anything between them. He had no other reason to see the man or be involved with him. When considering this, he quickly stomped down the strange feeling when he thought of never seeing Haruto again. There was nothing between them. Nothing at all.

He thought that Haruto would be waiting an entire year before being bold in his romantic advances again, so Mikhail was surprised when Haruto had asked him out on a date. So surprised that he had forgotten his own conditions and had answered 'no' without thinking. Haruto was a little discouraged, but didn't give up. A few weeks later, he had asked again and this time, Mikhail said yes.

It was a simple date, just a little outing to the shopping district and some lunch. Haruto had bought Mikhail a book. It wasn't that much different from their normal days. The only change was that Haruto had kissed Mikhail's cheek. When Mikhail didn't recoil or express anything that suggested he disliked it, Haruto had taken that as acceptance. Each morning, he greeted Mikhail with a kiss on the cheek.

He said good night the same way and occasionally, the kisses where elsewhere, such as the forehead, or the hand. But they were always innocent places like that. Haruto had yet to put those kisses in the most traditional location. Mikhail wasn't entirely sure why he was taking special notice of this, but he did. They went out again. And again.

Still, Haruto never kissed his lips. Mikhail was starting to wonder if there was a reason why. It was one of their dinner nights and they were cooking it together.

"Mikhail, can you hand me the spatula?", Haruto had asked.

"Here", Mikhail passed the cooking utensil over.

"Thanks." Haruto had leaned in and kissed him. This time on the mouth. It was incredibly chaste, just a bare brushing of the lips and still Haruto looked at him as if he had committed a heinous crime. It put Mikhail a little off.

"Why do you look like that? Is kissing me so horrible?"

"N-no! No of course not! I've been wanting to...I've always wanted to...But..."

"Why have you been holding back?"

"Because I don't want to come on too strong. Last time I tried to confess, you made me promise not to do it again for another year. I don't even want to think of what you'd make me do if I kissed you or-"

"Or?"

Haruto blushed and looked away. He didn't seem to be keen on answering which made Mikhail feel even more irritated. Which made Haruto even more nervous. They cooked in a tense silence for a few minutes and eventually finished, plating it up.

"I didn't dislike it", Mikhail said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"The kiss...I didn't dislike it", his words were a little hesitant, as if Mikhail was slowly realizing it himself.

"So...does that mean I'm not in trouble?", Haruto asked warily.

"You were never in trouble to begin with."

They continued to eat, the silence a little more relaxed. Then Haruto spoke up again. "Does that mean I could kiss you again?"

"I would not unwelcome it."

"Does that mean I could kiss you right now?"

"No."

"Huh? Why? Do I have to wait another year?"

"I am certain that your breath would taste like garlic right now."

Haruto laughed and moved closer to Mikhail, making eye contact with him. Mikhail did not break his gaze, waiting to see what the man would do.

"I really do want to kiss you right now, though."

Mikhail sighed, as if it were a chore. "Fine. A small one."

Haruto's eyes sparkled and he kissed Mikhail's lips. He had meant for it to be a small one but he couldn't help but push a little more. He had wanted this for such a long time. He felt a pinch on his arm and moved away.

"Sorry", he smiled sheepishly.

"I was right. You smell like garlic. Let's finish eating."

"We can eat later. I want to kiss you more."

"We'll have time for that later. I'm not kissing you with bad breath."

"Alright", Haruto conceded. Mikhail had said there would be time for kisses later and he would look forward to it. Mikhail ate his meal, cooked by him and a man who was head over heels. The apartment was small, but familiar. The food was not the rations given to him by Dorssia, meant only to provide nutrients. This food gave him a sense of satisfaction.

He was home.