Makoto swirls the last dregs of his hot brew, sort of glaring at it. He's been pretty spaced out all afternoon, after sharing a decidedly long hug with Haru as Rin was dragging him off. So long that it left Kisumi pretty much missing out on getting his own little snuggle in, barely sneaking in a pat on his ass that Haru had brushed off with a smirk over his shoulder, making the wise decision not to alert Rin to what he was up to. He doesn't need to deal with that jealous tirade again. Kisumi lifts Makoto's other arm off the table, setting it on his lap so he can wipe down the vinyl cloth, and Makoto finally blinks into awareness, and looks so seriously at Kisumi he's sort of scared.
"What did you mean when you said they had an unhealthy relationship?" he asks, the perfect pitch of a primary school teacher who's been trained to extract nothing short of the truth from unruly preteens.
Kisumi feels like just plopping down into that big, open lap and balling up for a hug, and they're alone, the shop is closed for the evening, and Makoto probably wouldn't flinch an inch and just pat him while he rants. He's had this on his chest for years.
"They used to compete… both of them. They both wanted to reach the Olympics," he sighs, sitting down next to him instead. He smiles a little wistfully. "Haru's always been faster… when they were just rivals, it was fine. They drove each other. You should have seen them… but then they got together. Rin couldn't handle losing any more, and Haru couldn't handle the guilt…" he trails off. Makoto gives him a rub on his bicep. "They argue about everything, but they both keep crossing that banter line. Rin's been on his case since they graduated. Doesn't approve of the whole freelance thing… wants him to find some sort of dream…" he groans. "He doesn't understand him."
Makoto nods. At least now he has an explanation for why Haru's never taken his swimming to a professional level. He's timed his laps in mental Mississippi seconds on more than one occasion, and Haru's up there with all the records, and he's not even trying.
"He's pretty spectacular, isn't he?" he muses, met by a hastily agreeing nod. And then Kisumi slumps his head onto Makoto's shoulder, and all he can think is that he's exhausted. He rubs his back.
"Can I ask you a favour?" Makoto nods, letting Kisumi sink into the table. "I'm holding interviews on Friday for some kids to clean after school or work the front on weekends… and I don't really know what I'm doing."
He gives Makoto a look from under his messy pink fringe, and even though Makoto's worked out the request, he lets him carry on.
"Care to supervise?"
"Of course. It'll be my pleasure," he smiles.
"It sounds like effort," Haru grunts when Kisumi poses him the same question the next day, and Kisumi makes a mad skip around a table and over a chair to grab him around the waist from behind, tall enough to immobilise his head by catching the top of it under his chin, and just grips. Haru freezes.
"Pleeeeeease," Kisumi begs, lifting Haru just an inch off the ground and setting him back down on top of his own feet. He does a strange waddle over to where Makoto's mopping the floor, making a bit of a puddle where he's stopped to give them an amused and very confused look.
"What are you doing?" he asks, Haru's face wearing the exact same question, even though he looks as far from uncomfortable as he can probably get. Exasperated, more like, the complete epitome of long suffering.
"Don't even know," Kisumi says, honest as he's ever been, lifting Haru up into a complete three-sixty spin. He sets him back down and hunkers over, head on his shoulder, swaying them just a bit. "I think I had too much coffee," he decides.
Haru rolls his eyes. "Thought you'd be immune to it by now."
"But I've just been so tiiiired," he whines, ducking his face right into Haru's neck, tickling him with his stubble, and just completely softening around him in a needy, almost childish hug. "This is why I need you."
He throws Makoto a look, agape with concern and irritation, looking for some back up, but Makoto's burning this warning stare into him, like he's willing Haru to relent without words. He finally tilts to Kisumi, just a little bit, and brings his arm around to hook his neck in the tiniest show of affection. "Fine."
"Yay," Kisumi just barely manages to squeak.
Haru manages to push him down into a chair and toys with his hair. Makoto fetches him some water, and they sit either side of him, Haru guiding his head to his shoulder in a hug.
"Is he alright?" Makoto mouths, with an air of obvious, older-brother worry.
"He's fine," Haru drawls back, stroking the hair out of his face. "When was the last time you had a day off?"
"When I was still living with you," Kisumi grunts. Makoto is hit with the answer to a question he didn't know he even had. This explains why they're so close, at least.
Haru and Makoto look at each other silently over his head. It's something they've both noticed, how his crazy spark has been slipping, how he gets about five times clingier as closing time slips closer, and tonight he's just crashed.
"How about," Makoto starts, taking authority and control of the situation, assuming his automatic role as 'adult' for the group, because god knows Haru and Kisumi aren't ever going to fit the bill, "Haru gets you upstairs… orders us some take out... and I'll finish cleaning down here and lock up. Boys night in?"
Haru squeezes Kisumi's shoulders, prompting him to grunt a yes, and manages to manhandle him up stairs. He considers not texting Rin to let him know he won't be home before he goes to work, some grudging part of him still mad over the other day. But he doesn't want to deal with another fall out, so as soon as Kisumi's settled into his beaten, old recliner, with his feet up and a blanket Haru distinctly remembers buying for Hayato as a baby, and not Kisumi, he rattles off a quick note. He even leaves a kiss at the end.
Haru à Rin
Boys night in at Kisi's. See you in the morning. X
He figures it's not the most unusual thing for a couple where one partner works nights to have to go through, and sighs contentedly, stroking Kisi's hair idly as he looks at his phone, those three little dots that mean Rin's typing dancing away.
Rin à Haru
Can't I come?
He reads it as the demand he knows it's intended to be. And shoots back a lazy "ye", deciding a "whatever" might be a bit harsh for Rin's sensitive soul. Makoto's still downstairs; he can hear him humming as he cleans. He slumps over Kisumi's shoulders from behind, arms around him, nudging his cheek in a little nose-kiss.
"I miss you, you know," Kisumi tells him, voice sombre and sad. "I love you."
"Don't be such a sap," Haru scolds, giving up on his platonic rub of his nose and just giving him a straight kiss to his cheek instead. "You're my best friend. I love you too."
"You know what I mean," Kisumi sighs.
"We'll get you sorted," he promises.
Kisumi's completely lost his mojo. He works twelve hours with barely a chance to sit down and snack every day. He can't even count the ten-till-four hours on a Sunday as a break, because it's just part of the endless weekend rush.
At least Rin proves himself useful, collecting the pizzas on his way over, and he's almost disgustingly joyful when Haru lets him in the back door, squeezing and kissing him tight with one arm while he balances the stack of boxes with the other. He's a ball of post-nap energy, roughly ruffling Kisumi's hair when he gets upstairs, but drops to squeeze his shoulder in a little speck of concern when Kisumi just groans at him.
"Overworked and underpaid?" he sings, sitting down at the edge of the couch closest to him and handing over his pepperoni.
"Something like that," and he finally sits up, accepting a fresh glass of water from Makoto in his other hand, who sits at the opposite end of the sofa to Rin. Haru wedges himself in between them, and hands over Makoto's Hawaiian. "I'm getting some staff though… take the edge off. Sucks I can't get any daytime help though."
Haru takes the hint, looking away, where he only meets a soft smile from Makoto. "I'll think about it," he grunts, feeling sort of pressured just from that look, like he'd be kicking puppy Makoto and kitten Kisumi if he outright rejected them.
Rin puts his arm around Haru, tucking him in to kiss his head. Haru relaxes. Rin's not being half as annoying as he expected, probably more out of respect for Kisumi than anything, because despite all the history between the three of them, they've become friends throughout it all. He squeezes Rin's leg.
Makoto thinks Haru looks happy, tucked up under Rin's protective arm, delicately doodling down his bicep as they eat while some subtitled movie roles. Rin must speak English, as he's laughing away at jokes the others just aren't getting, and then quietly explaining them to Haru – just Haru, like it's their private little thing, until Haru snorts an unabashed laugh into his chest, and Rin smugly kisses his head or his cheek or his nose.
He has a cute laugh.