They sit across from each other with an array of takeout boxes balanced on plates between them. There's very little actual talking going on, more a hash of stupid giggles. Kisumi leans back against the headboard when he's full, feeling a lot less pissed off at the world, and watches Haru get their left overs together to put in the fridge and clear the bed of their empty cartons.

"I'm sorry I'm an asshole," he pats the space next to him, holding out his arms to invite him in.

Haru shrugs and sits, letting Kisumi run his hand up his back. "You're my asshole. Are you feeling better?"

"Always. And you're doing, uh, well?"

"Mm… I think so?" Haru tilts his head towards him.

"Good. I was a bit worried there."

"Don't be."

"I know. I just can't help it. You know… I'm having Nagisa open up tomorrow. Wanna have a few drinks?"

"Drowning my sorrows?"

"More a celebration of freedom. No one to send you an angry text when it's past your bedtime."

Haru makes a face. He hasn't even turned his phone on since he left… there could be any number of texts awaiting him. But if Rin was really trying to contact him… if he was even a little bit worried or cared at all about where Haru had got to, he'd have tried Kisumi. And there's been nothing. He gulps back an unexpected sob and slips off the bed again, going to the little fridge Kisumi has upstairs for drinks and snacks (because he has a whole industrial kitchen downstairs for his other stuff) and grabs a full pack of cans.

Kisumi doesn't make a sound as Haru cracks the first can open and takes a large drink. Kisumi is slower with his drink, and is only opening his second when Haru's on his fourth. They've got a box set running on the laptop, paying little attention (Haru focusing on the beer and Kisumi focusing on Haru) and they don't bother to start season two.

Haru is staggering on his way to the bathroom. Kisumi takes the few minutes to put the laptop away and clean up just a bit, and they meet between the bathroom and bedroom when he's put the last few cans away. Haru looks at him, head cocked and confused like he's not even sure why Kisumi exists, but then gets on his toes and puts his arms around his neck.

"I like you. You're my favourite," he slurs.

He's heavy, a dead weight on Kisumi's neck and he has to hold his back to keep him up. "I like you too. Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed?"

"Mmmm want Kisi bed."

"And am I allowed to sleep in my bed too?"

"Mmmmmm," Haru rolls his head onto Kisumi's shoulder and hiccups.

And then just freezes there, totally unmoving and becoming even more of a lump. Kisumi assumes it's a yes. "Alright then. You gotta move, though."

"Nrgh."

"Haru."

"Nuuuurgh," he clings on even tighter and Kisumi feels a sob.

"Hey… alright come here. You ready?" he doesn't wait for a response and picks him up, much lighter when he's not trying to sink into the floor and just content to wrap his legs around Kisumi's waist and be carried.

Haru's cheeks are stained with tears when he puts him down in the middle of the bed and leans away, yet he's smiling up at Kisumi. Kisumi gets his jeans off and crawls back towards Haru, lifting his arms up for him to get his top off. He pushes him backwards into the mattress and Haru lets out a little giggled 'oof' when he lands. He's only wearing some of Kisumi's borrowed pyjama pants, but lifts his hips up anyway in an obvious hint. Kisumi pushes them back down.

"I forgot how much of a lightweight you could be," he mumbles, lying down next to Haru and stroking his hair. "You're going to hate me in the morning."

Haru blinks, eyes big and vacant, and pushes his nose into Kisumi's cheek. "Hi."

"Hi," Kisumi adjusts them a little, getting Haru onto his side and leaning on his arm. They're faces are so close their noses are practically touching, and he leans forwards. "Boop. You alright?"

"Missed you…"

"I'm right here."

"Miss you," Haru is more insistent, his voice more forceful, and he pushes forwards just enough to scrape their lips together.

"Haru…" Kisumi starts with the intention of calming him down and rolling him over to sleep, but Haru is apparently having absolutely none of that when he kisses again with more purpose. It's wet and sloppy, and Kisumi doesn't know how to respond even if he wasn't absolutely frozen in shock. But he finally lets his eyes close until Haru pulls away. "You're drunk, Haru."

"Maybe," Haru smiles his trademark drunk-smile, the one where he shows his teeth and looks a bit like an adorable psychopath. "But you love me."

"Haru…" this is the part where Kisumi really should just pull the blanket over Haru and evict himself to the couch, because there's just something in it that just screams BAD IDEA even though he can't pinpoint it.

"What's the harm?"

Kisumi stares at him, watches Haru's eyes close and come closer, kissing him again, holding his face this time. He's right, but he's so, so wrong.

"I'm going to hell," Kisumi thinks out loud and rolls onto his back.

"Going out with a bang though."

"Just shut up and come here."

Haru shuffles on top, kissing him again with sad, open eyes, and Kisumi has to close his because he knows Haru doesn't want this, wouldn't ever choose it if he was thinking straight. He's drunk but he's not wasted – a Haru off his head is usually a Haru half naked in the street looking longingly at puddles – and he realises that he just wants to lose himself. Get lost in a mental haze of booze and sex and well, when has Kisumi ever let him down before?

It's pure muscle memory to feel each other out again, trace their fingers over lines and curves they haven't felt in years. Kisumi wants to slow down and just appreciate everything he can, but Haru is moving them forwards just shamelessly, straddling Kisumi's face and leaning down towards his crotch, where he wastes not a second on any awkward fumbling to get his cock out of the fly of his boxers and into his mouth.

Kisumi peels Haru's pants down just enough to let his dick fall out and into his hand, stroking gently until he's hard, and starts to lick at his balls. He reaches for the lube with one hand, a blind stretch to the bedside drawers he only ever does alone these days. One probing finger at Haru's hole asks for permission, asks if he really wants to go the full whack.

Haru responds by sitting down on his finger to the end.

He struggles to kiss him when he's on top and thrusting, doesn't even really want to look at Haru and make it all real… acknowledge what he's doing, but Haru isn't giving him much choice. Like he wants every sense to be overloaded until all of him is spent and exhausted. When Kisumi comes Haru is already done, and he'd be asleep if not for his eyes following Kisumi as he wipes them down and gets the blanket.

Kisumi rolls Haru onto his side, spooning in behind him and holding him close. Haru goes to sleep within seconds, and it's Kisumi who's left silently crying. Some of it is guilt, some of it is shame, some of it is sympathy, and then some of it is something else he doesn't want to name.

I KNOW I KNOW I SUCK I'M SORRY

guarantee you get more updates following this/me over on Ao3 (along with lots of other works I don't post here!)