6.

Haru had only been kissed by three women in his life: His mother, his grandmother, and Mrs. Tachibana.

His mother was a forehead kisser, always brushing his bangs out of the way and giving a light press before wishing him goodnight or good luck or goodbye. They were more abundant when he was younger, but even as he grew up his mother would occasionally surprise him with one. They were always soft and gentle, and the words his mother sometimes didn't say were etched into its touch.

His grandmother was a lot more direct, often planting her kisses on the corner of his mouth. They had unnerved him at first, trying his best to avoid them when she would visit. But after she moved in and his parents left, he grew accustom to the affection. Each morning started with a kiss after he headed out to school, Makoto smiling in the background, and each night ended with one before she shuffled off to bed. He became so used to them that when she passed away, it felt like a piece of his day was missing. It took him a while before he stopped looking around for her.

Mrs. Tachibana, unlike the other two, was a loose cannon. Haru never knew what to expect with her. When he was little, she would kiss at the paper cuts on his fingers, the back of his head when she came through the door, and the bruises on his knees when Ren and Ran played a bit too rough. She held him close and kissed at the tears on his cheeks when his grandmother died, and on lonely nights when he felt the emptiness of his home to the point he had to stay over for days. He was kissed goodnight on the temple at sleepovers, and thanked with kisses to the forehead. There weren't many places left on his body where Mrs. Tachibana, with her pleasant mothering nature, hadn't kissed at some point in his life.

Haru had never been kissed by anyone else. He had never been kissed by someone he didn't consider family. And he had definitely never been kissed by a girl.

He expected it to be different than the kisses he had received before. He didn't expect it to feel this awful. Zuki's lips were hot, burning even, against his cooled ones, and yet he felt no warmth, no compassion from their press. It was nothing but a thin line of eagerness, impatience pushing her to kiss him harder. He could feel her nails press tightly into his skin, could feel her jaw working to open his own mouth as she begged for access with flicks of her tongue. Haru was suffocating. Everything about this felt wrong. It wasn't supposed to feel like this, right? It was supposed to be better than this, right!?

Makoto always smiled when he was kissing, always touched Hiromi in such a gentle way. It was something that made him happy, right? There was supposed to be caressing trails of fingers and light presses of lips that always left a warm trail. After all, there was no way Makoto's kisses couldn't leave Hiromi feeling warm, not when they came from him. They would feel just like Mrs. Tachibana's, sweet and full of genuine love. They had to make her heart pitter-patter and skip and even stop. Haru shouldn't be feeling as if he had been shot: He should be flying on cloud nine. But he wasn't. He was ice cold, Zuki's touch strangling him like rope.

It was supposed to be warm palms against his neck, soft and safe. His ears were supposed to be burning bright red. His heart was supposed to be pounding. Fingers were supposed to be weaving through his hair. Green eyes were supposed to be reflecting back at him. There should be a smile. Noses were supposed to brush. Lips were supposed to be warm. Haru-chan. Lips were supposed to be loving. Haru. Lips were supposed to be home. Haruka.

Zuki was all wrong. It wasn't supposed to be her. It was supposed to be someone else. It was supposed to be-

Supposed to be-

Makoto.

It was supposed to be Makoto.

Why couldn't he have been kissed by Makoto?

"Get off me!" Haru cried, pushing Zuki off him with sudden aggression. Was the ground shaking? No it was him. He was trembling. Of course he was, after thinking something like that... He was panting too. Zuki couldn't have been on him any longer than a few seconds, but he was breathing like he had just run a marathon. He couldn't quite catch the oxygen floating around the room, the air too stuffy to be of any use. He needed to leave. He needed fresh air. He needed…

"What the hell, Haru-kun!?" Zuki shouted, causing a few of the couples nearby to look in their direction. Haru covered his mouth, looking at her with bright eyes. His heart was in his throat, he could feel it. Thunk-thunk-thunk, faster than the dubstep overhead. Breathe. Breathe.

"I'm going." He managed to relay to her, despite everything, and started making his way off the dancefloor. She looked livid, as if he had just insulted her mother. Those green eyes were such a mockery about everything. He wanted them gone.

"Wait! All I freaking did was kiss you! Haru-kun, wait! I said wait!" she reached for his arm but he yanked away from her immediately, slipping through the throng of people and out of her reach. Immediately he was overwhelmed with unbearable heat as bodies slid around him like a pulse. He fought against its current, shoved couples apart and stepped on toes, even accidently felt up a person as he desperately tried to get her out of the way. Many shouts became aimed at him, a kind soul even asked if he was okay, but he ignored it all. He just wanted to leave, he just wanted to get out. When he at last saw the doors, he danced around a group of three and sprinted towards the entrance.

He flew through the door with ease, running past security, the waiting line, everyone. Eyes followed, drunks giggled, some random person even shouted "where you goin', cutie!?" Haru told himself he could stop. His feet kept running. I can't breathe, his mind, his lungs, begged. Farther, farther, his heart demanded. Until it no longer hurts.

Blocks later, his body finally crashed, and Haru clutched the bricks of an alley with pale fingers. He inhaled the oxygen in rigid gasps, beads of sweat sliding down the back of his neck. The air refreshed his lungs and steadied his breathing, even felt nice against his skin. But it did little to help the loudness of his heart or the tremble of his body.

Slowly, Haru turned himself around, sliding down and pulling his knees to his face. Except for the faraway sounds of cars honking from time to time, it was complete silence around him. It was much more pleasing than the constant pound of the club. Seconds ticked by. He began to wish for his bathtub. He wished for Makoto too.

Haru squeezed his knees. No, no he didn't wish for Makoto. He was the reason for him sitting here in the alley in the first place! If he hadn't gotten a girlfriend, if he hadn't been dragged by them to this club, then—well then he would be sitting at home in the comfort of his water. If was their fault—Makoto's fault!—for all of this. Zuki touching him, Zuki kissing him, Zuki making him think something like that…

Why couldn't he have been kissed by Makoto? Haru's heart missed a beat. He remembered it, pictured it. Soft touches, green diamonds overhead, graced lips gentle but eager. Everything would tingle, from his nose to his toes, with each placid kiss. They wouldn't fall in one place, but in a trail. Buzz-buzz his skin would vibrate. His body was on fire; all he wanted to do was keep kindling the flames.

Haru weaved his fingers into his hair and twisted the black locks. Why was it like this!? His relationship… his relationship with Makoto was nothing like that! They were best friends and nothing beyond it. Why was he thinking such things? It wasn't right, he shouldn't… he shouldn't be thinking of anything like this at all! Before tonight, he had never thought about Makoto like this. It was a ruse, a simple misunderstanding. There was no way it could mean anything. It was just his adrenaline messing with his brain from being kissed so suddenly like that. It would all go away in a moment and just be a forgotten memory. He would forget these thoughts, forget them… forget them! But if that was true, then, well then why did just the idea of it hurt so much?

Because you love him. Haru froze. Somewhere far away, a cat meowed. Cars honked. A bunch of giggling drunks sung to Oldcodex out of tune. He was frozen. Haru sat there, staring wide eyed at his knees, not even twitching a finger. His heart didn't beat, he didn't dare breathe. If he stayed there long enough, perhaps he could merge into the wall. You love him.

The pressure in his chest, that rock in his stomach, continued to pull and stretch and sink beyond what was possible until is frayed and tore in half, the thousands of little strings that were holding him together just completely gone as the rock cracked and crumbled into dust. The feeling left him utterly numb, almost weightless. In that moment he felt like a soul without a body, as if there was nothing to hold him there. It felt like he was swimming. It felt like he was free.

And then his mind jump started and his head was swirling at this impossible realization. What- what the hell was he even thinking? Him, in love with Makoto? The idea was simply preposterous- impossible! He wasn't. He couldn't! Makoto was his best friend, his family. Of course, if he did think about it, he did love Makoto. But they had known each other since they were infants- they were practically brothers! Makoto had been there for everything, from his ups to his downs, and even the in-betweens. Always there, always smiling. Denying that he didn't love him would be cruel.

But what his mind was promoting was inconceivable. He couldn't be in love with Makoto. Because being in love meant…

Haru's eyes went wide.

It meant caring about someone with all of your heart. It wasn't just pitter-patters of hearts and adoring looks and warm touches, though that was definitely part of it. No, being in love was so much more than that. It meant total acceptance of a person, not just of the good, but of the bad and the quirky. The person of affection was their world, the center of the universe. When they smile, you smile from the sheer brightness of light. When they laugh, you laugh too because something so beautiful is nothing but contagious. And when they are passionate or upset or determined or stubborn, you feel it, feel it in every fiber of your being because being in love meant understanding and comfort and trust and oh god what had he done? Haru buried his face into his hands.

"Could I really be…" he found himself murmuring, doubt starting to take over any previous reasoning he had. Because it was impossible, completely impossible—and yet there was no way Haru could ever deny Makoto's importance in his life. He would never want to. Makoto was… Makoto was the only one who wholly understood him. He was the first to offer him a hand, the first to give him comfort, and the first to accept him, strange quirks and all—and there were a lot of them. Makoto was the light that led him to the water, and yet allowed him to soak as he pleased. He gave him the pushes he sometimes needed to take a dive, but never once did he shove him into the deep-end alone. He was always there, always beside him. There to support him, to scold him, and to care for him. Haru appreciated Makoto, appreciated him more than he could ever say. But was he really in love with Makoto?

The way his heart began to pound at just the thought of love furthered his doubt. It hadn't always been like this, had it? There was a time in his life where the thought of Makoto didn't affect him at all. Before Tokyo, everything had been normal. So what had changed? Haru couldn't help but scoff at his own obliviousness. Hiromi. Hiromi is what had changed.

All of this had started when Hiromi had come into the picture. Before she and Makoto had started dating, he hadn't even given Makoto a single thought in that way. But now… he was becoming a mess. His nonsensical heartbeat, the knots in his stomach, the strong dislike for Makoto's girlfriend, all the symptoms made sense now. He couldn't remember blushing this much towards the brunette before, nor could he remember being so blinded by his sweet smile and gentle gaze. Nagisa never made his stomach flip. Rei never made his hands sweat. Rin never set his heart aflame like this. None of them made him imagine what their lips might feel like. This was all just because of Makoto. Makoto was the one doing this to him. And Hiromi was the catalyst.

There was no denying it. There was no way, no way at all. Not when he could see it now, not when all the pieces of the puzzle fit. He was in love with Makoto, so deeply in love that it was ridiculous.

"I'm in love with Makoto." Haru whispered, touching his lips as he said it. He could feel his cheeks burn pink and his insides squirm like they never had before. It was a strange sensation, and it took him a moment to realize what this feeling was. He was having butterflies. He, Haruka Nanase, was having butterflies in his stomach after admitting that he was in love. It shocked him so much that he burst out laughing, giggling into his knees like some lovesick school girl. It echoed around the alley and he laughed harder, clutching himself into a tight ball. His eyes began to sting. Tears slid down his cheeks like rain. He ignored them and laughed, laughed until his stomach hurt. Let it hurt like the rest of him. He couldn't find a way to make himself care anymore. And when the laughter stopped it was replaced by sobs, and Haru cried into his hands as his body shook with this newfound revelation.

What a pitiful person he was. How dare he fall in love with a straight man? How dare he fall in love with his best friend? How dare he fall in love with Makoto? Haru didn't want to know what kind of past life he had lived before to disserve this. He just wanted to swim. That's all he ever wanted. To swim with Makoto. Why did it have to turn out like this?

Because what could he do, even with knowing? Makoto had a girlfriend, had Hiromi. Even if he had enough courage to tell Makoto how he was feeling, it was too late to do anything about it. Makoto was happy with her. He was just the friend. He now understood why he had taken so long to come to this conclusion. His mind had been desperately trying to protect him from the truth. That even if he loved Makoto, he could not have him. It was easier to live in ignorant bliss than to know and be able to do nothing.

The vibrate from his phone sounded otherworldly as it sounded off and it took several rings before Haru was able to understand it was real and not just his imagination. With clammy hands he reached for it, more so out of habit than a wish to answer it. Reading the caller ID, his stomach fluttered again, and he couldn't help the small quirky smile he got as he wiped away lasting tears. Makoto. Why was it that, no matter the situation, Makoto always knew when he was needed? Haru pressed answer and put the phone up to his ear, music blaring before he even heard Makoto speak.

"Haru!? Haru, are you okay?" Alarmed, Makoto was alarmed for him. This idea shocked him, and yet he couldn't help but feel a bit pleased at his best friends worry. He really was messed up, wasn't he?

"I'm fine." Haru managed into the phone, hoping that his voice didn't sound choked up or broken. In the background he could hear the pounding of the club music grow quieter. Had Makoto left the club?

"I'm so glad you answered!" came his response, a sigh of relief buzzing into the phone. "Zuki said- oh sorry- she said that you just took off running and I was so worried! What happened, Haru? Are you sure you're fine? Tell me where you are and I'll come find you." Haru's insides did a flip. The way he was now, there was no way he could face Makoto. Not when tears were still drying on his cheeks and realization was still pumping through his veins.

"Makoto, I'm fine." He tried to reassure, clearing his throat. "I couldn't handle all the people, so I left. It just wasn't my thing."

"But Haru… that's…" Even without being there, Haru could tell Makoto was biting his lip, contemplating what he would say next. "Look, where are you?"

"Don't worry about it." Haru shook his head, closing his eyes and laying his head against the bricks. "Stay at the club. I'll just catch the train and go home." Makoto's response to that became panicked.

"What no! Haru, it's so late! It's not safe for you to ride so far alone."

"I'll be fine. I've ridden the train plenty of times before."

"But not this late! Please, if you want to go home at least let me come and take you back…" Haru couldn't help but snort at this.

"What about Hiromi?" saying her name made a strange tingle travel down his spine and left him uncomfortable. "You can't just leave her alone at the club. She's your girlfriend."

"Well yeah, but-" Makoto struggled with forming a coherent sentence.

"Like I said, don't worry about it. Go back and have fun. Don't keep her waiting."

"Haru, if you really want to leave can you at least go to my house instead, like we had planned? I don't feel comfortable with you out in Tokyo by yourself so late at night…"

"Nothing will happen to me Makoto."

"Please Haru. I'd feel so much better if you did as I asked. Please." Makoto was begging now, and Haru found himself caving in seconds. He couldn't say no, not when Makoto was caring so deeply about him.

"Okay. I will go there instead." Makoto's relief was vocalized on the other end.

"Thank you, Haru. Text me when you get there, okay? Just so I know you made it there."

"When did you become my mother?"

"Please, Haru…"

"I will." Haru assured him softly. "Goodbye, Makoto. Have a good time. Step on some feet." There was a light chuckle at the other end.

"Bye, Haru. Be safe." Haru hung up the phone with a sigh, looking up at the star-less cloudy sky overhead. His body felt exhausted. Too many emotions in such a short time had ransacked his reserves and left him feeling numb once more. Makoto was probably right. It was more than likely best that he just go to his house instead. It would be safer than an alley. More comfortable too. He could take a shower, maybe make a snack. And then he could sleep. Just the mere thought of no longer having to think sounded like heaven.

Still, even with a plan in mind Haru found himself unable to move for quite some time. His legs still felt like jelly, even with a trained body like his. He was afraid that if he stood up, he would just fall back down again.

The thought of worrying Makoto if he didn't arrive soon was what eventually pulled him to his feet. He brushed off some dirt from his clothes, then wiped at his eyes once more before leaving his make-shift sanctuary to find out where the hell his feet had taken him.

It turned out that his sprint from the club had lead him further away than he had thought, but not down to a place he had found unfamiliar. In fact, it had lead him not two blocks from a small café he and Makoto often frequented for coffee and sweets. From there he was able to figure out a path back to Makoto's quite easily, walking along the hidden footsteps they had previously left.

He could understand Makoto's worry about the darkness of Tokyo a bit better now, now that he was walking through downtown without the light of the sun. Shapes jumped in the shadows, and a couple of times he became wary at the presence of other individuals, most of which moved in crowds.

When he finally arrived at Makoto's door, Haru was able to find the spare key hidden in the dirt of a flower sitting off to the side. After wiping some of the mud off- Makoto must have just watered it-, he inserted it into the lock and pushed the door open. Darkness from the apartment greeted him like an old friend as he closed the door behind him. He scanned the room for whatever reason, as if checking to make sure nothing was out of place, which really made sense since it was all darkened blobs anyways, and found it to be somehow satisfactory.

Forgetting the lights, Haru kicked his shoes off to the side and pulled out his phone to send a message to Makoto because he was pretty sure the brunette would not be able to relax until he received confirmation that Haru had made it through Tokyo safely.

I'm home.

He hit send and looked away for only a moment before realizing what he said, alarm quickly overcoming his features.

"Shit shit shit-" Haru stammered at his phone, clicking unsuccessfully as the word sending changed to sent . It wasn't really a big deal, but yet it was, because this wasn't his home, it was Makoto's. Makoto's, who he now knew he was in love with, and that changed everything. Claiming this as his home now felt so wrong, like he was invading on a space he shouldn't be, and now he was afraid Makoto would call him out on his mistake, say that no, he wasn't at home. He was just at Makoto's.

Haru squeezed his phone tightly, sitting against the back of Makoto's couch with his knees drawn up. How could something so small drive him this crazy? The dark did nothing but amplify the pounding of his veins. Waiting for a reply from Makoto was agonizing, and he wasn't even sure if he would receive one. Maybe Makoto was off dancing with Hiromi again with his phone left at the table? Or perhaps he did see it and saw what he wrote and found it so weird that he couldn't bring himself to reply?

The buzz in his hand startled him out of his thoughts and Haru had to swipe to unlock it multiple times because he was so nervous about the waiting reply.

Good, I was starting to worry… There is water in the fridge if you want some. I shouldn't be too long. I'm glad you made it safely.

Haru stared at the message, his ears ringing. Makoto didn't say anything about it. He didn't even tease him. He was just happy he was there. It was all so very… Makoto. Haru sighed into his knees, setting his phone to the side. He didn't understand this… any of this. Of course Makoto wouldn't. Makoto was too sweet of a person to find what he said strange. He probably would even chuckle at the message and think how very Haru it was.

He released a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. Why did everything have to get so complicated now? Back home everything came so easy. Friends, swimming, school, Makoto. He had felt so in control- now everything was spiraling. Haru wanted his stability back. He wondered if that was possible.

Standing up, Haru meandered through the dark towards the bathroom. If there was any way to find the answer, it was in the water. He could already feel the calming liquid on his skin as he stepped through the door and flipped on the lights.

More than 20 minutes passed by before Haru finally stepped of the shower, cheeks flushed and hair dripping, wearing borrowed clothes from Makoto. He did have some of his own clothes laying around somewhere, as it had been the initial intention for him to spend the night anyways, but in his desire to get into the shower he had forgotten to go searching. In the end, it was just much easier to grab some clothes off the floor, especially since one of the items was his favorite orange shirt. Besides, he always felt comfortable in Makoto's clothes. They were always a bit big for him, and so offered room for his limbs to breathe. They also smelt like Makoto, but Haru was pretending that he didn't notice that factor for the moment.

His next task became somewhat that of a maid as he began picking up little things Makoto had left around the apartment. A single forgotten shoe, a poorly folded blanket, a few dishes in the sink. Makoto wasn't exactly messy, but compared to Haru's lifestyle and the way he kept his own home, it was a bit of a distraction. And really, he didn't mind chores. He would be lying, though, if he wasn't a bit glad for it.

Though he was tired, much of his body was still buzzing with the day's adrenaline. With so much going on his mind wasn't yet ready to power down and leave him be. He needed to keep busy, just for now. If this meant re-organizing Makoto's movie collection, then so be it.

It was nearing 2 when Haru started stifling yawns, and he finally made his way towards Makoto's bedroom, eyeing up the larger bed with pleasure. He all but collapsed onto the fluff, instinctively curling his legs into his stomach and covering his face. It was cool and soothing against his face, still relatively warm from his hot shower.

Face pressed up against it like this, Haru was overwhelmed by Makoto's scent.

It smelt like fabric softener, but also him. Through it he could feel the warmth of his gaze and gentle touch of his smile, even hear the ring of his laugh. And it was sweet, the smell, because Makoto liked sweet things. There was chocolate cake and whipped cream frosting and even a small scent of blueberry, just like the flavor they used to share in their ice cream back home. The blankets lulled him like nothing else could and he wrapped his limbs around them tighter, buried his face deeper, because the sensation was just so soothing and wonderful. He never wanted it to stop.

'I'm home' Haru couldn't help but think as he snuggled his face into the fluffed fabric. Because who was he kidding? Makoto was his home.

XxXxXxXx

Makoto had never been so impatient in his life. The moment Zuki came up to them and said Haru had ran off, he had wanted to leave. He wanted to race after him, find out what had happened, and make sure he was okay. In the end, all he got to do was make a simple phone call and wait for a text message.

The waiting was nerve-racking. There was something in Haru's voice that made it all the more worse. He didn't sound as he usually did. It was subdued, even more so than usual, and the words felt forced too. Makoto was positive something must have happened. But as to what that was, he had no idea. Zuki told them nothing but that Haru left before latching onto an arm of a guy she said she knew and disappearing off towards the bar.

Hiromi did her best to try and distract him for worrying about Haru, assuring over and over that "Haru was a big boy and could handle himself" and "he even told you he would be fine!" but even so, he refused to go back on the dancefloor and sat at the table with his phone tight in his hands. She ended up just sitting across from him, tapping her nails to the beat as she watched others dance.

When the phone finally vibrated, he flipped it open with ferocity, hoping it was from Haru, hoping that he was okay…

I'm home.

Makoto could feel his insides melting into a warm gooey mess, the message causing a wide smile to spread across his face with a giggle. Home, huh? So cute… Makoto knew what Haru meant- there was no way he could mean his actual home, it would have taken way longer- but just the thought of Haru calling his own apartment home made his whole body tingle with happiness. Haru probably didn't think anything of sending something like that, probably didn't find it weird at all, and that made it all the better. It was so like Haru. He always said and did things from time to time that were a bit quirky from the usual, but Makoto couldn't help but find it anything less than adorable. Humming, he began to text back.

"See, Mako-kun, I told you he would be fine." Hiromi reached across the table and squeezed his arm.

"Yeah, sorry Hiromi-chan." Makoto shut his phone and gave her an apologetic smile. He really did feel bad for abruptly ending their dancing.

"You should put more faith in your girlfriend's words next time." She winked. "And, well, Mako-kun…" this time Hiromi moved out of her seat to sit on his lap, his arms automatically wrapping around her to prevent her from falling. "I know you care about Haruka-kun and that's fine but… don't you think you baby him too much? He's not your son, he's your friend."

"Do I?" Makoto chuckled nervously, scratching at his chin.

"You do." She poked him in the chest. "You fawn over him like some mother hen! Just last week you were wiping his face with a napkin when we went out for ice cream. And you're always standing so close to him and always looking at him and smiling and just… It's not what you do with your friends! It's weird how close you two are, even with knowing him for forever.

"And I know I'm probably reading into this too much but I just feel like it's "Haru" time all the time and just… Mako-kun, I'm your girlfriend, not him…" she ended with a whisper, looking up with eyes Makoto could only consider number 2. "Please don't forget that. I want attention from you too." He found that swallowing took twice as much effort.

"Yeah. I know." And so he wouldn't have to say anymore, he kissed her. Because this was concerning Haru and when it came to him he was spineless in the best way. He wouldn't be able to stop the affectionate gazes and sudden smiles for her. Not when he still loved Haru, not when she was still second.

"Let's go dance some more." Hiromi hugged into his chest as their lips parted. "Just the two of us. Forget about everyone else."

"Okay." Makoto helped her off his lap and to the dancefloor.

By the time Makoto made it back to his apartment, it was nearing 2:30 in the morning and he was pretty sure his feet were about to fall off in protest. At first the darkness of the room caused his shoulders to tense and he quickly began to worry that Haru had lied to him and actually had gone home, but a quick flick of the light relieved him of any worry when he caught sight of familiar shoes. Also, was it just him or was it cleaner in here? Makoto lazily kicked off his own shoes before setting them beside Harus's, then unbuttoned his vest. He glanced towards the kitchen. Yes, it was definitely cleaner. Haru had freaking cleaned his house.

Locking the door behind him and hanging his keys up on a hook, Makoto began his expedition to find him. If this was any other house, the first place he would have thought to visit was the bathroom. He had had enough experience with Haru to know that if he couldn't be found, he was more than likely soaking in the tub. But as Haru constantly reminded him, his bathroom was shower-only and not worthy. So, with that in mind, Makoto made the way towards his bedroom.

Through the light from the hall shining into the room, he was able to find Haru quite quickly, curled up on the bed with his face hidden and legs wrapped around a mound of blankets. Without a thought Makoto smiled, leaning his head against the doorframe.

"You'll catch a cold like that, Haru-chan…" he whispered, but didn't move from his spot right away. Instead, he allowed himself to look just a bit, admired the smallness of body and the cuteness of his toes. The back of his shirt was pulled up a bit and he could see the smoothness of his skin, slightly bronze from spending time outside at the pool. He wondered if the rest of him was the same color. Were there perhaps red marks from spots missed with sunscreen? Maybe along the jut of his spine, or across his shoulders. Makoto wet his lips, realized what he was doing, and quickly distracted himself with getting a blanket from the closet to cover Haru with.

Since it was summer, he pulled out a thinner quilt their neighbor Ms. Tamura had made him for his 18th birthday and draped it over Haru's shoulders.

Up this close Haru's hair looked incredibly soft, and though Makoto already knew it would be, he had the urge to touch it and so reached over to run his hands through blackened locks. It was a little damp to the touch, but that just made him want to run his fingers along the strands all the more, perhaps even graze them down the back of his neck. I really want to kiss him…

Abruptly Makoto pulled his hand away and stepped back, heart pounding. What was he doing? He needed to leave, needed to walk away before he did something he might regret. His friendship with Haru was more important to him than all the urges his body was screaming at him. He was dating Hiromi. He was supposed to be falling in love with Hiromi. So why did his yearn for Haru seem to be increasing day by day? Makoto aggressively ran his hands through his hair, leaving the room for someplace safer.

XxXxXxXx

Haru woke just as the morning's light started to filter in through the windows and sprinkle his face with sunshine. Much like a cat he stretched his limbs with a silent yawn, rubbing at his eyes. He was a bit surprised when his feet didn't meet cold air and took quick note of the blanket covering him. Probably Makoto's doing. Just that thought was enough to remind him of the previous night's events. Haru twisted over and groaned silently into the blankets, his mind wide awake now. Speaking of Makoto, Haru dimly noted his absence in the room. Where was the brunette anyway?

Despite the warmth of the bed, his curiosity soon got the better of him and Haru ended up sliding out of the bed and tiptoeing into the hall. The apartment was deathly quiet in the silence of the morning and Haru found himself treading lightly as to not stand out. It was the living room where he found Makoto, all sprawled out on the couch. It was rather an amusing sight, actually, as the piece of furniture was obviously not meant for someone as tall as Makoto to sleep on. Though turned on his side and knees tucked in, his feet still ended up hanging over the edge. His head, too, was oddly propped up on the other side, where even a pillow wasn't probably enough to give comfort. Still, Makoto was fast asleep, his peaceful face and gentle breathing coming in clearer as he walked around the couch to stand in front of him.

He never knew Makoto could look so sweet while sleeping. With all of his features relaxed and his mouth slightly open, he looked like the poster boy of complete innocence. It was like this that the subtle baby fat in his cheeks showed, moving slightly with each temperate breath. Haru couldn't help the warmness rising in his cheeks the longer he stared at Makoto. Was it strange to map and memorize the precise layout of the hair framing his face? Was it odd to be transfixed by the rise and fall of his chest? Haru supposed it was, and found himself on his knees before Makoto with a pounding chest.

Never had Haru wanted to touch Makoto so much. He wanted to grasp hands and touch skin and stroke through fluffy hair.

"I love you, Makoto." Haru whispered. And there wasn't a doubt in his mind. Not now, not when he was looking at Makoto like this and could feel it. His heart was burning with adoration, with love, and he knew it was the real deal. I want to kiss him… Haru stared at Makoto lips and found himself biting his own, leaning forward before he let his mind catch up with the rest of him. It would be their first, their last, their only, Haru promised. Just something to hold onto when he had to give Makoto away to somebody else. And even then, he would be sure to stay by his side.

Because yeah, being in love meant adoring smiles and loving gazes and comforting touches. But it also meant broken hearts. For when you are truly in love with someone, you want them to be at their happiest. Even when it's not with you. And he would do anything to keep Makoto's smile from fading.

Haru gently pressed his lips against Makoto's in a small chaste kiss, lips tingling as he slowly pulled away seconds later. They were warm and chapped and held no response, but Haru didn't care because it felt like everything it should have been with Zuki.

"I think I've been in love with you my whole life." Haru murmured, and he lost breath as he watched Makoto start to finally stir before him. Soft lashes slowly rose and Makoto yawned, eyes fogged over before gradually coming into focus. When he noticed Haru, he smiled. "Good morning, Haru."

"Morning, sleepy." Bathed in radiance, his lips still tingled, and Haru couldn't help but offer a small smile back. "Want some breakfast?"