The sun was intent on killing him, Haru thought on the morning of their flight. Having slept far later than he should have (due to last-minute packing) the heat was doing nothing to temper his fatigue.
Makoto was similarly beaten down when he arrived to pick him up. However, Haru suspected it was more a result of overworking himself than anything else.
"You look terrible," Makoto greeted, concern dusting his features. Haru made an effort not to roll his eyes.
"Look who's talking."
They travelled in comfortable silence to the airport, too drowsed by heat and anticipation to talk much further. When they stopped to eat at a small cafe, Haru almost fell asleep, but upon boarding their flight, he found himself unable to close his eyes. His mind had clearly decided that the time for sleeping was over. He just wished his aching body would comply.
Makoto, on the other hand, was luckier. Not a minute after they had taken off, Haru heard a soft "flump" at his side.
Apparently, Makoto had decided that he made an excellent pillow.
Haru frowned. "Makoto?"
Makoto didn't budge. Though, Haru thought, gazing at the golden-brown mop on his shoulder, he wasn't sure he wanted him to. The sensation of weight and warmth through his clothes, and the strands of hair tickling his neck offered a certain…comfort. He furrowed his brow as Makoto's faint scent reached him: the tiniest hint of chlorine accompanied by…what was it? Lavender?
Haru couldn't help but smile before he turned his head to stare out the window, contemplating their reflections in the glass.