Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     Moving to Tokyo has put a distance between them that Haru had grown to loathe. Their incompatible class schedules and unfairly located campuses strained the little time they have for each other. It’s only now when he doesn’t have it, that he realizes how spoiled he was to have Makoto at his side every day in Iwatobi. It’s also opened his eyes to the little things that Makoto does for him that he takes for granted.

     He breathes warm air over his hands, again, for what seems like the hundredth time in three minutes as his wait for the train. If Makoto were here instead of introductory education he would have his hands firmly nestled inside of a pair of gloves that were brought because “I knew you’d get cold” or better yet, hidden in the fleece lined pockets of Makoto’s olive parka.

     It really is the worst not having Makoto around.

     He wishes he noticed that sooner.

     He wishes he noticed Makoto sooner.

     His phone buzzes from inside his pocket and he reluctantly retrieves it. He hates carrying his phone around but he hates not being able to talk to Makoto whenever he wants more. Haru has texted more this month than he has in his entire life and learned the hard way his phone will die after only two hours of being on call with Makoto even when it’s fully charged.

     Checking the screen he notes that the message is from the very same person he can’t keep his thoughts off of.

     I got out of class early today. Do you want to get something to eat?

     The tiniest of smiles pulls at the corners of his mouth. Makoto knows very well he has nothing to do, he’s been whining about it all week, but he still asks not wanting to interrupt any plans that Haru may have made. Though, very quietly to himself, he admits that he would drop everything to hang out with Makoto anyways.

     K. Meet at the train station?

     His nimble fingers tap out a reply and he looks for a place to sit and wait. At least now he has something better to wait for than the train. As he finds a good spot to rest until Makoto arrives, his stomach growls eagerly anticipating dinner. Already he knows where he’s gonna ask Makoto to go with him. A twinge of guilt hits him that Makoto isn’t even here yet and he’s placing his own desires above his friend’s.

     … If Makoto doesn’t have somewhere in mind then he’ll demand to go to the ramen shop.

     He’s only waiting a few minutes before Makoto is calling out to him, face flushed from the cold, school bag haphazardly hanging off his shoulder.

     “Sorry to make you wait on me!” he says, smiling a little too brightly at him. “Where do you want to go for dinner?”

     The ramen shop the ramen shop the ramen shop the ramen shop-

     “Wherever, where do you want to go” Haru forces those words out instead.

     Makoto pauses, looking almost surprised before he answers. “I know that we just went there last week but I kind of wanted to go back to that ramen shop.” Scratching his cheek he continues “If that’s okay with you anyways.”

     Yes!

     Humming a soft “Mhmm” he walks with Makoto to check what train they should catch to get there. Even with all the distance that’s been forced between them recently, they are still on the same wavelength and it gives him a sense of relief. Even if everything else has changed, Makoto hasn’t.

     Thankfully, the next train will take them exactly where they want to be, no transfers, and they hardly have to stand around in the cold before it arrives. They find a comfortable seat near the window and settle next to each other. It’s busy today and there’s hardly any space for the two of them. His thigh is pressed against Makoto’s, taking away any space between them. Since they’ve been friends so long they’ve never been particularly shy about physical contact, but Haru can’t stop himself from noticing that lately that kind of contact has felt… different.

     Makoto in no way seems to be affected by it though, happily recounting his day to Haru, telling him about something funny the professor said. He focuses on Makoto’s words, soothing his uneasiness. Haru’s more than grateful it’s a short ride and bolts up the minute the train stops.

     He’s irritated with himself for missing that contact less than five minutes later.

     Entering the ramen shop they immediately sit side by side at the counter. Haru makes sure there is a little more space between them than on the train this time. He watches as Makoto shrugs off his jacket, revealing the recent favorite plaid shirt he seems to wear everywhere. A thought crosses his mind that it’s criminal that Makoto looks so good in it before burying his red face behind the menu, pretending he’s looking at his options even though he already knows what he wants.

     “What’ll you boys have?” the cook addresses them, setting glasses of water down in front of them.

     “Spicy mackerel ramen.” Haru casts a glare in Makoto’s direction when he laughs.

     “I think I’m gonna try the house special. Sounds tasty!”

     The cook takes their orders and walks away. The quiet that blankets them isn’t uncomfortable and he appreciates that Makoto doesn’t just talk for the sake of talking and filling the space between them. Although it seems Makoto can’t hold himself back for very long before teasing Haru.

     “Are you sure about getting something spicy again? Remember last time-“

     “Nothing happened.”

     “Oh, so you didn’t drink your water, my water, and the third water you made me get trying to get your mouth to stop burning?”

     “Shut up, Makoto.”

     He is not about to admit that is one hundred percent true, or the fact his mouth was still on fire after drinking all that water. Instead he turns away and pretends that something else, something not charming Makoto is interesting.

     …Charming?

     A deep sigh escapes his mouth. He really has been thinking weird things lately. Resting his chin on his hand he glances at Makoto. It’s probably his fault. Or that shirt’s fault.

     Their food arrives quickly (Itadakimasu!) and Haru picks up his chop sticks, taking in the first cautious mouthful of noodles. The first bite already has his lips prickling from the heat, but that’s not going to stop him. After all, it still tastes amazing and this is the only place he’s been to so far in Tokyo that actually uses fresh mackerel for everything. How anyone thinks frozen compares to fresh is ridiculous.

     More than half way through his meal, tears pooling in his eyes, he tips back his glass only to find it already empty. Sliding his gaze over to Makoto’s glistening glass, brimming with refreshing water, he sees it’s already being pushed towards him.

     “I had a feeling this might happen again.”

     Haru can’t bring himself to say that he hates anything about Makoto, but this comes pretty close. Makoto doesn’t even look smug about being right, again. Rin would be gloating right now, carrying on that not only was he right, like always, but that Haru had a weak inferior mouth. Of course, Rin wouldn’t share his water either. He can hear Rin’s voice in his head. “You got yourself into this, Haru. Deal with it!”

     Sometimes he wonders why he’s even friends with him.

     He never wonders that with Makoto. If anything he wonders why that aren’t more-

     Nope. Not going there. Stopping that thought right there. Nope. Nope. Nope.

     Grabbing Makoto’s glass he chugs half of it, washing away the burn and the strange thoughts that keep entering his head.

     By the time they both finish it’s unfortunately late and they have to part ways, taking different trains back to their respective apartments. Makoto’s train arrives first and he thanks Haru for spending time with him, waving cheerfully before hopping on the train. Haru can feel his chest tighten watching the train roll away from the station, taking Makoto out of sight. He frowns.

     Maybe the spicy ramen was a bad idea after all.

     His own journey home is a blur of lights and noises until he stumbles through his unlocked door. Peeling off his clothes he throws them… somewhere. He’ll worry about that later. Bath time is more important than that. Impatiently he fills the tub with warm water before lowering himself in.

     It’s everything he’s needed all day. His eyes flutter closed as he leans back, submerging as much of his body as the small tub allows. The water is all he needs. Well, all he needs right now.

     Haru has no idea how much time has passed when he hears his phone skittering across the tile floor. The screen is flashing with a new text notification. He glances over at it out of curiosity.

     1 new message from: Makoto.

     He pauses before deciding that it can wait until after his bath. Or at least, that’s what he was going to do until it vibrates again.

     2 new messages from: Makoto

     It could be an emergency and really, the phone isn’t that far away from the tub. Or at least that’s what he tells himself at first when he leans over the side, stretching his arm out for it. He still can’t reach it so he edges out of the tub just a tiny bit more. Catching it with the tips of his fingers it pulls it towards him. Finally, he has his phone and he’s still in the bath… Kind of.

     If he’s being honest more of him is on the floor at this point than in the bath. 

     Opening his phone, he checks the two messages from Makoto.

     Have you seen my English notes? I think I might have left them at your place…

     Oh! Never mind, I found them. They were under the couch, isn’t that strange?

     It’s not strange his notes are there at all. Last time they were studying English together they were sitting together on the floor in front of his couch. They probably slid under there when they got frustrated and switched to video games.

     Haru types so much in his reply, in a lot fewer words, not bothering to close his phone afterwards. He knows Makoto will reply right away. It buzzes again before the screen even has a chance to dim.

     Ah! That’s right. Rin wouldn’t answer the Skype call so we took a break. We should study together again soon!

     A drop of water from his hair plops on his phone, reminding him of his current position. Haru removes himself fully from the tub, draining the water away. The water was cold anyways. Grabbing a towel he dries his legs off and haphazardly rubs his hair. Makoto would probably scold him if he didn’t try his hair properly before getting in bed.

     Haru gathers his discarded clothes from earlier, tossing them in his laundry basket before digging out something clean to put on. He ends up wearing a shirt that Makoto left behind last time he stayed over, solely because it was the first one he grabbed.

     Or so he tells himself. He just as easily could have grabbed the blue one that actually belongs to him.

     His phone follows him to bed as he flops down, nestling into the covers. The screen is too bright with the lights off, but he ignores it in favor of continuing to text Makoto.

     They text until Haru’s eyelids feel heavy. It’s late, later than he probably should have stayed awake. He has an English class in the morning. He should probably put the phone down already and go to sleep, but Makoto has been typing him a message for a while now and he’d hate to interrupt him, forcing Makoto to backspace everything, just to tell him he’s going to bed. He can wait just a little longer.

     Makoto’s message finally sends.

     It is seven pages of Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

     Makoto has probably fallen asleep texting, nose pressing the ‘z’ button until it slid off his face, accidentally sending it to Haru. Makoto is kind of cute sometimes. Is thinking Makoto is cute weird? Haru’s too tired to fight off the weird thoughts about his best friend. He types one last reply before setting his phone on his nightstand, finally succumbing to sleep.

     Good night, Makoto

Chapter Text

     Haru’s eyes pop open wide and he feels like he’s swimming in sweat.

     ‘What was that?’

     As much as he tries not to think about his dream, it is all he can think about. It doesn’t help that a lower ache isn’t letting him forget it either. He’s no stranger to wet dreams but Makoto certainly is a stranger to his. Never, never ever has he dreamed of his best friend in that way.

     Ever.

     …At least until today apparently. Haru almost wants to call Makoto and apologize for what his subconscious has done without permission. How would he even start that phone call? “Sorry I dreamt about riding your cock?” Haru can talk to Makoto about almost anything, but he knows this is one of those rare anythings he has to deal with himself.

     There’s also another issue that’s still asking to be dealt with. Letting out a deep sigh, he licks his palm. Sliding his boxers down his thighs, Haru curls one hand around himself, biting his lip at the sensation it sends jolting through his stomach. Slowly, he moves his hand. The rhythm is unsteady and inconsistent but it’s enough. He’s sensitive from being neglected; he should really invest in doing this more since he’s publicly in swimwear so often. He slides his thumb over the tip, smearing the pre cum down the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Haru grinds into his fist and letting his soft moans fill the apartment.

     The whole process is more mechanical to him, a means to an end so he can get on with his day. He doesn’t normally think of much when he has to do this in the morning. Sometimes, he thinks about waterfalls. The only person that knows that about him is Makoto-

     There’s a flash of vibrant green, tan skin, a bigger hand and a voice whispering ‘Haru’ in his ear.

     Haru stops dead in the middle of his stroke and stares at his hand as if it betrayed him.

     Nope. Nope. Nope. NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. NOPE.

     He lets go of his dick and rolls out of the rest of his clothes and heads straight to the shower. He fumbles with the water for a moment before making it as cold as he can possibly handle, colder than the ocean when it’s too early to swim in Spring. Now all has to do is stand there and wait for it to go away. For all of it to just wash away.

     By the time Haru gets out, his lips are tinted blue and he’s shivering. He’s not hard anymore thankfully, but he didn’t manage to wash the weird thoughts away. Why was this happening? Why about Makoto? Makoto has always just been… Makoto. Haru’s mouth does something resembling a pout. Things with Makoto were supposed to stay the same, not get weird, especially not the kind of weird that causes erections.

     Without allowing himself to think about it anymore, he gets dressed, picking his favorite, almost too worn out, jammers to wear beneath it all, and heads out the door. He was already late to class because of his unexpected morning, but he manages to slip in right before attendance. English is his worse subject but it gives him something to focus on so no invading thoughts can enter.

     Three hours later, class was over. For once, enough of the lesson actually stuck that he wouldn’t have to call Rin over Skype for help. There was still some time to kill before his next class and swim practice. If he was feeling responsible he could do his English homework. However he wasn’t feeling responsible at all. He felt restless, almost itchy like when he wanted to swim but this was different somehow. Wanting to swim was like sunburn. It was warm, itchy, and made him want to peel away layers and dive straight in. This itch felt like shivers, although most likely that was just side effects from his ice shower this morning.

     Haru still hadn’t decided what to do with his free time. Normally he would text Makoto and see if he was free to do something but he still felt too embarrassed from… that to even tap his name in his phone. He didn’t need Makoto to occupy his time until practice anyways. Tokyo wasn’t like Iwatobi, he could just walk around until he found something to do. If he got lucky he might even find that cat café Makoto was dying to discover.

     Before he realized it, before he could stop himself, he found that his thoughtless feet walked him straight into the coffee shop. He was standing in the middle of Makoto’s workplace. It was somewhere between both of their campuses and the very last place he wanted to be today. Normally, it was his favorite place to waste time. Especially, if Makoto was working. Was Makoto working today? He’d better get out of here before Makoto sees him-

     “Haru! Are you out of class already?”

     Fuck.

     “Yeah.” Haru slid into his usual spot at the counter. There wasn’t any running now. If he tried to, Makoto would know something was wrong. Ever since their first fight before graduation, Makoto didn’t let things go if he thought something was wrong. Neither one of them wanted a repeat of that night, even if Makoto’s mothering was troublesome occasionally.

     Besides, it was hard to slip out unnoticed when you were the only two people in the room.

     “I was just thinking about you.” Makoto pushed a latte into Haru’s hands. Looking into his cup a little foam fish smiled back at him. It was easily recognizable as a fish for once, Makoto was getting better with his foam art. The brunet leaned on the counter, resting on his elbows, cradling his head in one hand.

     “You know, I had a dream about you last night.” Makoto says.

     Haru hesitates. ‘Oh yes I had one too. You were doing this thing with your tongue and-‘

     “Is that so?” Haru asks, taking his first long sip and pushing his dream to the back of his mind.

     “Mhmm. You see I was a fire fighter and you were a merman…” The rest of what he says doesn’t register as the entire world slows down, triggered by the simple event of Makoto pushing his hair back. Haru is unable to blink, coffee forgotten in favor of drinking in this sight instead. Makoto doesn’t even really know how outrageously attractive he looks. Makoto Tachibana was a hazard. If he could stop being so sinfully perfect-

     That’s the thought that finally makes Haru realize he’s gone somewhere unusual when thinking about Makoto.

     Again.

     Thankfully, he hasn’t noticed that Haru has missed everything he’s said so far, still cheerfully describing his dream. Years of looking uninterested while really paying attention have paid off. One detail of Makoto’s dream grabs his interest immediately, sucking him back into the conversation. “…and then you turned into water!”

     “I did what?” Haru’s eyebrows furrow together, wondering if the previous half of Makoto’s dream would have explained how that made any sense.

     “You turned into water. I knew you’d like that part!”

     Before Haru full has a chance to admire Makoto’s warm smile, the bell over the door chime and Makoto is briskly walking back to the register, mouthing “be right back” over his shoulder. There’s a girl about their age in an oversized Tokyo U sweater waiting.

     It’s not a conscious decision to watch them, but he does it. His best friend, a title he’s been trying to stress lately, is a friendly person. Being jealous of other people interacting with him would have ended their friendship years ago. However, Haru can still find himself thoroughly annoyed with the people around him, particularly this customer. Despite several overly polite avoidances, she can’t seem to register that Makoto has no interest in her. This doesn’t seem to stop her from trying to gently touch his arm or inviting him to “hang out sometime.” When she leaves, she takes her coffee with a wink and drops her tip in the tip jar.

     “Ah,” Makoto audibly sighs once she’s left the store. There’s a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, he looks frustrated. He nudges the tip jar back and peers into it. “Is it selfish to want more tips?” His question is directed at Haru as he looks over. Judging by the jar, Makoto makes plenty, causing Haru’s eyebrow to quirk upwards.

     “Oh! It’s a trick you see.” His voice is playful, like when he chases the twins around. “The jar only appears full.” Haru lies to himself that he’s not staring at Makoto’s biceps when he brings the large jar over in front of Haru and dumps it out on the counter.

     The first thing he notices is that while there is a fair amount of yen, most of it is apparently different kinds of notebook paper. He reaches out and grabs a pale blue one, unfolding it to read what it says.

     ‘Hey cutie :) call me some time’ - Mizuki

     …He grabs another, hot pink.

     'If you ever wanna hook up call me' - Yuki

     …Then another.

     'You make more than my coffee hot, call me' - Satomi

     …Another

     'UR FRIEND IS REALLY HOT. BLUE EYES, PRETTY LITTLE MOUTH. GIVE HIM MY NUMBER?' - Akiko

     Haru’s eyes widen. The girl just in here… she was… but Makoto… and she said what about his mouth?

     “I’m very flattered, but I can’t pay off my school loans with their phone numbers.” Makoto picks out the rest of the phone numbers before sweeping the small amount of change left back into the jar. It’s a meager amount, hardly worthy of Makoto’s hard work and Haru makes a note to himself to treat Makoto to dinner this week. If nothing else, he needs to eat something other than instant noodles for all his meals.

     Haru lingers another hour, chatting idly with Makoto between customers, before he absolutely has to leave for his last class and swim practice. His backpack feels like it weighs more than a fish tank as he pulls it up from the floor and shrugs it over his shoulder.

     “Haru, are we still studying later?”

     “Don’t forget your notes under the couch again.”

     “I won’t!” The tips of Makoto’s ears burn pink.

     Teasing Makoto and causing him to blush sends little sparks across Haru’s skin. It’s another new weird reaction to spending time with Makoto but Haru has to admit, he doesn’t totally hate it.

Chapter Text

     Study dates- No, study sessions with Makoto were unexpectedly one of the things he looked forward to the most since moving. As much fun as it was to explore all the unknowns of Tokyo with Makoto in search of a cat café, he still preferred spending time with him alone. There wasn’t a coastline to sneak down to when studying got too boring but alone in his apartment he could almost pretend they were back in Iwatobi in his late grandmother’s house just the two of them.

     Having Makoto over still didn’t make studying fun though. Anything he thought he retained from this week’s English lesson was a lie. Looking at his scattered notes now, none of it made sense. He should have called Rin after class or after swim practice. Even with Makoto’s help they weren’t making much progress on their Homework. Why they tried to study English together when both of them were miserably terrible at the subject was a mystery but they had always studied together, it would be weird if they stopped now.

     Makoto scratched his cheek and looked over. They were still stuck on the same page they were half an hour ago. Their textbooks had been exactly zero help and their notes even less. Makoto sighed, pushing his glass back up.

     “Should we call Rin-”

     “No way.” Haru crossed his arms. That idiot would spend more time talking about himself and how great Australia was than actually helping them figure out homework. He wasn’t in any mood to put up with that. More importantly, his time with Makoto was limited and he didn’t much feel like sharing with Rin’s inflated ego. They could figure it out together without Rin anyways.

     Haru leaned over, pressing his arm into Makoto’s, ignoring the tingling spreading throughout his body. Looking over Makoto’s papers he saw a problem Makoto solved that he hadn’t yet.

    “How did you get that for number nine?”

     He knows Makoto is explaining, he knows Makoto is talking, he knows that with his grade he should be listening and committing to memory anything and everything that might help him but his senses are overloaded with the scent of Makoto’s body wash. Or maybe it’s after shave. Whatever it is, it’s new and he really likes it. The smell is a blend of the ocean back in Iwatobi and Makoto at the same time, it’s intoxicating. Haru inhales again, he doesn’t want to stop or move away from Makoto.

     Haru should move away right? It’s definitely unusual to be so close, even in their cramped work space. Then again they’ve always been physically closer than most people. It would be okay to linger and continue to enjoy Makoto’s amazing scent. Haru rationalizes that it’s completely normal. He doesn’t want to move and that’s normal.

     So he doesn’t move. He settles in right where he is.

     Resting his head on his best friend’s left shoulder he can hear the slight pause before Makoto resumes explaining why number nine is clearly a sentence fragment. Haru might be okay with pushing their boundaries, but maybe Makoto isn’t. He waits a little longer, testing to see if Makoto is going to ask him to move when instead, the brunet shifts so that they fit together just a little easier.

     “How’d you figure out seventeen?” Makoto asks. He rests his own head atop of Haru’s cautiously.

     Haru hums contently and taps their worksheet with his pencil, that one he actually remembers how to do.

     They stay like that until they finally manage to finish the worksheet and by finish he means they gave up after six more problems and Haru finally caved and texted Rin for answers. Of course, Rin didn’t bother to reply until he mentioned that Makoto needed the answers too.

     Now that their homework is finished, Haru’s eyelids feel heavy and a small yawn escapes his mouth. It’s not particularly late but it’s warm and comfortable where he is. He’s also vaguely aware of Makoto playing with the hem of his cream cashmere sweater. A part of him isn’t sure if he chose wore this sweater today because of the cold rainy weather or because Makoto likes it.

     …That’s a lie.

     Haru knows he wore it specifically because Makoto likes it. Every time he wears it Makoto can’t stop himself from reaching out and touching it. His fingers keep accidently brushing against Haru’s skin as he plays with the fabric. The casual touches aren’t unpleasant, Haru admits. Even if his skin crackles with electricity on every place they’ve made contact. He doesn’t entirely understand why, but he wants Makoto to touch him more, he wants more contact with him, even if it’s just the unintentional traces as he fiddles with Haru’s clothes.

     “This sweater is really soft...” it’s lower than a whisper and he’s not entirely sure Makoto is aware he’s said anything out loud at all. If he hadn’t been so close, Haru’s sure he wouldn’t have even heard it.

     Before he can say anything in response, Makoto gently moves Haru off his shoulder, rolling it twice out of stiffness. He turns to face Haru, “I should get going before I miss the last train.”

     However, nobody moves. They’re both deeply aware of how close they are. Makoto over-estimated the distance between them when he turned. There’s so little space their noses almost touch and there’s nowhere to look that isn’t Makoto’s eyes. If Haru felt trapped under Makoto’s gaze at the coffee shop he’s a prisoner now. His green eyes are glossy, pupils wide and irises sparkling behind his frames. Had Makoto always looked at him like that? Look at him like he was-

     “I should really get going before I miss the last train.” Makoto repeats, still unmoving. If anything, Haru swears he’s moved a little closer, licking his chapped lips as he speaks. His hand isn’t just touching Haru’s sweater anymore; it’s resting on Haru’s hip.

     Makoto has said ‘should’ which means absolutely nothing. It just means he should be doing something, not that he will. Like he should learn to cook for himself, but he won’t because they both know Haru would never let him starve.

     “Yeah, train leaves soon.” Haru can feel a warmth blossoming in his chest being so close to Makoto. He wants whatever is happening right now to continue. Maybe he could offer to let Makoto stay over. Enough of his things were here from sleeping over before. Neither of them had morning classes. Or they could ditch, whatever. Makoto could just stay a little longer and they could-

     “I should…” Makoto turns away, shutting his eyes and messily gathers up his notes. “I need to go. I’ll text you when I get home, Haru.” In seconds Makoto has pulled away from Haru and stood up. He hastily piles his things in his arms, and he’s gone.

     Staring at the door, Haru can’t help the overbearing disappointment he feels. He doesn’t know what else he was expecting to happen but he feels let down, robbed of something important. Haru sits in the same spot for another ten minutes blankly staring before pulling himself up and going to bed.

     Haru walks straight past the bathtub, kicking off his pants and flopping down on his bed, clutching his phone. Makoto won’t text him for another twenty minutes at least but he doesn’t want to go to sleep until he knows his friend is home safe.

     As he lies there his thoughts are about Makoto, like they always are lately. It doesn’t help that he can almost smell Makoto on his sweater where they were pressed together so long. He holds the fabric up to his nose, breathing deeply. That’s probably a little odd, but Makoto smelled really, really good. The ocean is one of Haru’s favorite smells but somehow mixed with Makoto it’s even better, sweeter almost. Haru didn’t have a big sweet tooth yet he wouldn’t mind taking a bite and tasting Makoto-

     Way too weird again…

     Haru groaned and smooshed the palms of his hands over his eyes. This situation was frustrating. He couldn’t just avoid Makoto until all these weird feelings and thoughts stopped. What if they never stopped? What would happen if Makoto caught on to how strange he was being and wanted to stop being friends? He couldn’t handle that happening. Haru rolled over, tangling the blankets around his body and burying is face in his pillow.

     Stupid Makoto, this is all his fault.

     Haru stays there swimming in his confusion, pouting, drifting in and out of sleep as he waits. Finally, there’s a muffled buzz from under his pillow. Haru pulls his phone into his cover cocoon with him, wincing at the bright screen as he checks his messages.

     1 new message from: Makoto

     Sorry I left so suddenly. (^_^;)

     Swim tomorrow to make up for it?  > ゜)))) 彡

     It’s physically impossible for him to keep brooding when Makoto offers to take him swimming. Haru replies with every fish emoticon in his arsenal and a very tiny “yes”. Swimming will definitely help with all the weird thoughts too. At least it better.

Chapter Text

     The entirety of Haru’s morning in spent in the tub and most of his afternoon is tied up with picking the perfect pair of jammers to wear. Each pair is different, unique, and carries a benefit that no other suit has. With almost a dozen options its little surprise he’s still considering which ones will be best when Makoto knocks on his door.

     “Haru? Are you still in the bath? I’m coming in…”

     Haru doesn’t move until Makoto comes up behind him, airy chuckle filling the air. “I like how you have ten pairs of identical jammers.” Haru looks away, saying that it’s eleven now. Makoto should understand by now it’s the fit that matters, not how they look. Makoto is apologizing for teasing, but Haru ignores him, noticing a pair he doesn’t remember getting. They look new though. Haru remembers buying a new pair with Makoto at the store a few weeks back, maybe these are it. He grabs the unfamiliar suit, determined to find out what makes this one special.

     Later, he regrets not grabbing any other pair but this these. He remembers now why he doesn’t wear these. In the store they were fine, but they fit different when he got home with them. They are too small, too tight, and several centimeters shorter than his other pairs. He feels himself constantly tugging at it but in the end it rides lewdly low on his pelvis. He’s never swum in these before and he pleads with them to just stay on while he’s in the pool.

     Makoto must be thinking the same thing as he firmly focuses his attention places higher than Haru’s bellybutton, tips of his ears burning red when they wander. Something about seeing him so flustered over a swimsuit leaves Haru feeling oddly satisfied that’s he’s stirred a reaction like this out of Makoto.

     For once, it’s Makoto who wants to leave first. Haru is still fidgeting with his swimsuit trying to make it cover more when Makoto grabs his wrist, leading him out of the locker room and to the pool beaming. The space is completely empty aside from them, the perks of Makoto borrowing the keys after hours. Their footsteps echo in the spacious room as they walk in. Haru can’t resist diving in the minute he sees water, leaving Makoto behind to lazily stretch before joining him.

     Swimming Makoto holds a different energy than swimming with his team or even with Rin. There’s no competitive drive pushing them against each other here or desire to stretch for the fastest time in the best form. it allows Haru can relax more, to enjoy the water.

     Makoto is also more prone to playing around.

     Like sneaking up behind Haru and sending a colossal wave crashing over him.

     Haru flips his hair out of his eyes and whips around looking over his shoulder at Makoto who smirks. He splashes him again with a smaller wave, urging Haru to strike back. He takes the bait, slapping the water and sending a surge of water towards his best friend.

     They continue for a while until it fizzles out, both of them deciding to aimlessly float around. Neither of them race, but they swim a few laps. Haru even flips over and swims backstroke with Makoto. His form is beyond sloppy; his coaches wouldn’t even know where to start with him on improving. Only Makoto knows how terrible his other strokes are. Haru’s backstroke may be bad, but it’s good enough that he can swim in the lane next to Makoto comfortably.

     Eventually, Makoto is too exhausted to keep up with him anymore, stamina lower than a potential Olympic swimmer’s and he lifts himself from the pool, each muscle on his back flexing as water cascades over them. Has he always had such spectacular back muscles? Maybe Kou had a point with her muscle mania, because he can feel his fingers twitching, yearning to reach out and memorize the curve of each one.

     I want to touch him…

     Haru dunks his head underwater drowning his inappropriate thoughts. The water has been rudely unhelpful lately, failing to clear his head or provide answers to his Makoto problem. He takes his frustrations out in his strokes, driving a swift path through the water, hoping that he can carve out a solution.

     Makoto has always been someone special to him, present in his life even in his earliest memories. They’d always been together to but he’s never caused such static-charged reactions in him before. Just the slightest brush of their hands sends jolts straight to his head to frazzle every remaining healthy brain cell left. Yet, it’s not even just the physical interactions that have him reeling with unfamiliar emotions. The way he smiles seems so much brighter lately and his actions so much more attentive, fawning over Haru. What about Makoto has changed?

     Haru reaches the end of the lane and turns to kick off the wall and head back. An idea strikes him the same time he shoots forward. A lot of things are different now, constantly altering the things around him and how he interacts. It’s not out of the question to think it’s not Makoto that’s changed, but Haru himself.

     What about me changed?

     Sinking to the bottom of the pool, Haru contemplates the many changes between them. Before all these weird thoughts started, things had been the same as they always were. Haru comes to the conclusion that all of this started when they moved to Tokyo. He still didn’t like how greatly his time with Makoto was reduced. He didn’t appreciate him fully until they couldn’t be together all the time. If he had noticed sooner how important Makoto was to him then-

     …

     Oh.

     “Oh.” Air bubbles retreat to the surface as Haru unintentionally opens his mouth in reaction to his discovery.

     He’s in love with Makoto, quite possibly for some time now. There’s no specific moment he can pinpoint as the moment he started to like Makoto in a different way but it hardly matters. The water has granted him an answer settling every question he’s had up until now. It’s a very quiet realization for him, calming in its own peculiar way. Haru’s thoughts aren’t weird, he’s just love struck.

     During his self-discovery, the lack of air sends him kicking back to the surface. Makoto is already there waiting for him, hand outstretched for Haru to take so he can be pulled from the water. Now that he understands the new way he’s been looking at his best friend, he’s much more appreciative of what he sees.

     He’s also more aware that Makoto is watching him in the same way. Haru feels almost guilty that he’s missed such an important thing for this long. It wouldn’t be enough to say sorry though. Haru opts for something better than an apology. Their feelings are mutual and he resolves to change the distance between them. With all the new things Tokyo has brought them, what’s one more?

     Makoto pulls him out of the water, hand lingering in Haru’s as it always does, but Haru doesn’t stand away from him like usual. He steps forward, free hand resting on Makoto’s firm pec, head tilted invitingly towards the other. “Thanks for taking me swimming.”

     In contrary to the kiss he wants or the stuttering he expects, Makoto reacts as if nothing is out of the ordinary, commenting that they should go swimming again soon. As he walks away to change back into his clothes, Haru wonders if maybe he was too subtle before trailing after him to the locker room.

     Unfortunately, years of swimming together and his radical obsession with the water have desensitized Makoto to the act of Haru stripping. Even as he peels his size too small jammers off in an agonizing slow fashion, hissing as the fabric comes off his skin, Makoto remains unaffected, chattering on about whatever as he showers. Standing next to him, rinsing off the chemicals of the pool, Haru dares to glimpse down, eyes popping open wide at what he sees. How something like that would even fit inside anywhere is unfathomable. It must be possible though, somehow. He can already tell his laptop history will contain some rather unsavory search results after tonight.

     His futile attempts to seduce his best friend continue after they’ve left. Every action seems to be met with the same result; Makoto acting like this is a totally normal way for Haru to act when he should know better. Haru grabs his hand firmly without saying anything, sneaking a glance out of the side of his eye to gauge Makoto’s reaction. He wiggles his fingers against Makoto’s, lacing them tightly together. This will separate this hand hold from regular hand holding for sure.

     “Oh! Are your hands cold, Haru?” he doesn’t let go, but he still seems unaware of what Haru really wants.

     Haru had never thought of their closeness as an obstacle before, but it’s turning into one. Makoto is too accustomed to unusual shows of friendship that when Haru crosses those lines it’s no big deal. He squeezes Makoto’s larger hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, willing Makoto to understand everything already.

     All his telepathic messages must have gone to Makoto’s voicemail because they arrive at Haru’s apartment with their relationship unchanged. Haru still has his hand in Makoto’s, which although very nice, he would like it to lead to something a little more. They linger outside the door, Haru looking up at Makoto. This is his last chance to make something happen tonight.

     “Aren’t you gonna kiss me goodnight?” Haru asks.

     It’s the boldest thing Haru can think to say and his heart flutters when he realizes it might have worked. Makoto’s cheeks are flushed pink and he’s laughing nervously as he leans in. Haru lets is eyes close, long black lashes drawing over his eyes, bracing for the moment.

     The ‘moment’ turns out to be Makoto kissing the top of his head, much the same way he kisses his younger siblings goodbye. Haru is too exasperated to try again and numbly moves through the motions as he releases Makoto’s hand and waving goodbye, promising to text him later.

     Once he’s gone, Haru’s chest rumbles like thunder as he screams internally, cursing the day he fell in love with Makoto.

Chapter Text

     Nearly two weeks later Haru is starting to reconsider whether he was right about Makoto feeling the same after all. Nothing, absolutely nothing has been working. No amount of innuendo, suggestive stretching or inappropriate touching has had a positive outcome because of Makoto’s thick skull. He’s tried cooking nearly naked (You’re gonna get oil burns!), initiating cuddling (Cold? I’ll get you a blanket.), and licking melted popsicles from Makoto’s fingers (I could have gotten a napkin, geeze Haru). There was even a second when he offered his chap stick to Makoto through a kiss, only to be rebuffed when Makoto found his balm in the bottom of his school bag.

     The frustration had pushed Haru to loudly state “I love you”, which of course Makoto only smiled and said “I love you too, everyone in my family does.” Although maybe part of that was his fault for choosing to blurt those words after a skype call with the rest of the Tachibana family.

     Nothing, no hint subtle or blatant, has penetrated the impossible fortress that is Makoto Tachibana.

     Currently, he’s glaring at the side of his best friend’s face in the student lounge while Nagisa excitedly tries to plead with them to go out and party.

     “Come on! All six of us can never get together!” Nagisa is head butting him, twisting with excitement. Rin has come back for a rare visit to Japan and magically, everyone’s schedules align for them to hang out just like old times. Normally, Haru would be happy to decline his offer and spend the night contently in his apartment watching Netflix with Makoto and seeing Rin later in a more low-key environment, but he’s so completely over getting nowhere with his secret ‘seduce Makoto’ mission that he agrees that a drink or twelve sounds rather nice.

     “Okay.” Haru says.

     “OH MY GOD! Really Haru-chan? Then Mako-chan has to come to it’s gonna be so fun let me call EVERYONE.”

     Nagisa is practically vibrating with energy as he texts everyone else the plans for tonight. His fingers move at inhuman speeds as he manages several conversations at once. Haru doesn’t feel the slightest twinge of sympathy when Makoto looks at him pleadingly to change his mind, to suddenly remember a swim practice or test or anything to get them out of this. Haru refuses to provide any such escape tonight and instead turns to Nagisa, asking him for more details, solidifying the fact that he will be going, dropping Makoto’s name casually to lock him in as well. Makoto is too kind and soft to back out if Haru acts like he wants them both to go. He almost feels bad a little for taking advantage of his giving nature and putting Makoto through this, almost.

     Evening rolls around and Nagisa, Rin, Makoto and himself are in a booth on their first round of drinks while Nagisa uses his lightning fingers to text Rei and Sousuke, asking when they’re gonna finally show up.

     Rei is already on his way over and Sousuke still hasn’t replied to the previous five messages.

     Of course, even as they wait on more people to show up, he’s seated right next to Makoto, trapped by Rin on the other side. He’s not sitting close to Makoto though, giving up on his secret ‘seduce Makoto’ mission for this one night out of sheer frustration. The only glimmer of relief is that Makoto is oblivious to anyone flirting with him, even the waiter that has circled by their table at least seven times now.

     He takes another short drink. Haru doesn’t particularly care for the bitter taste but he doesn’t plan to drink more than it takes for a nice floaty feeling buzz. Rin and Nagisa on the other hand are more than half way to plastered and have already started some kind of drinking game as they struggle to master one handed shots. Nagisa’s fingers can barely reach around the glass to hold the lime and for whatever bizarre reason the salt won’t stay on Rin’s hand when he moves.

     Rei arrives in the middle of this, shaking his head immediately at Rin and Nagisa’s actions. They slide further into the booth making room for him as he sighs. The waiter returns, so infatuated with Makoto he almost forgets to take Rei’s order. Rei declines anything more than water, electing himself the responsible sober guardian of the group. Nagisa and Rin both tease him for being “boring” and “no fun at all”, stopping when he looks at them over his glasses like a disappointed parent. He launches into lecturing Rin and Nagisa when they admit they didn’t consider how they’d get home after getting drunk. Makoto speaks for what seems like the first time, assuring Rei that he and Haru can be trusted since they’ll be walking over to Haru’s after.

     Haru pulls his eyes away to look at Makoto out of concern. It’s not fair to ignore him the entire night, especially when he has zero idea why Haru is so upset in the first place. Makoto is already looking him, shyly turning away when he’s caught. Haru taps Makoto’s foot under the table with his own, demanding his attention. He did force Makoto into this situation; the least he can do is make sure Makoto is okay. Haru receives a small shaky smile, one that is supposed to say ‘I’m alright, thank you for worrying’ but he hardly believes that. Makoto is a terrible liar.

     “Stop being a gross married couple and do shots with us already!”

     Rin slams two glasses down, one in front of each of them with a sharp grin. Makoto’s ears burn and he holds up his hands, stammering excuses. Nagisa and Rin chant, pressuring him to try one-handed shots at least once. Rei even joins in, pushing his glasses up his nose as he states he’d like to see someone demonstrate this technique properly. Haru is about to tell them to stop bullying Makoto when Rin slides against him, showing him how to hold everything in one hand, crankily swearing under his breath as Haru holds it all perfectly. By the time Haru turns to Makoto, he’s also been convince to do a shot. “Just one!” he says, a promise Nagisa clearly hopes he can get Makoto to break.

     They start to tilt their drinks back when Nagisa practically springs across the table and stops them. “You gotta do it like this!” he chirps, looping their arms around each other, linking them. Nagisa settles back into his spot with a wink and Rin pulls out his phone, asking Rei which filter looks best in the dark bar.

     Haru should have expected as much from their friends. Makoto tenses when Haru scooches closer so their arms aren’t bent nearly as awkwardly. He drags the fingertips of his free hand over Makoto’s knee to soothe him. If he doesn’t relax, all that tequila is going straight up nose when tosses his drink back.

     Rei counts down backwards from one, signaling when they should start.

     3…

     2…

     1…

     Makoto’s tongue drags across the salt lined dip in his hand like a kitten lapping up milk. Then his hand tilts carefully, trying not to interfere with Haru’s own movements as much as possible as he drinks. He swallows hard, throat bobbing as he does so. He maintains eye contact with Haru through all his actions, dangerous glimmer lurking that Haru can’t quite identify. Although, maybe that glimmer is just his imagination.

     He’s entirely captivated watching Makoto and mirroring his actions that he doesn’t even register the dry burn on the back of his throat when he drinks the tequila or even the sourness of the lime as he sinks his teeth in. All he can focus on is the dribble of juice trailing down the corner of Makoto’s mouth as he sucks his own lime wedge. His green eyes are crinkled at the corners, trying to withstand the sudden onslaught of three different tastes in his mouth.

     It’s the sounds of their friends cheering that pulls Haru back to the reality that they are in a very public place in front of lots of people and that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t a good place to be half hard staring intensely at his best friend.

     He scoots away quickly, bumping into Rin who immediately shoves his phone in Haru’s face to replay the video he just took of them. Makoto looks just as good through the camera as he did in the moment. It’s too much to ask Rin to keep replaying the video but… Haru finds himself checking to see if Makoto is listening, he’s not thankfully; he’s being accosted by an excited Nagisa and Rei, before asking Rin to forward that to his phone.

     That first shot seems to unlock Makoto’s ability to relax and he stops being so stiff. He orders a couple more drinks, cheeks pink, but he’s hardly buzzed. His size seems to be working in his favor and he’s had twice as much as Haru before he even starts to slur. Rin went hard in the beginning but is starting to whine that he’s ruining his “perfect body” as he’s pressed against Nagisa. His cries fall on deaf ears as a giggling Nagisa offers him more fruity mixed drinks with dirty names.

     Rei, the last sane man is shouting into his phone trying to find out how Sousuke got lost so badly when he lives the second closest. Haru can catch bits and pieces, “get a cab”, “I need help babysitting”, “I can’t understand Rin’s accent” and other scattered phrases. He wonders how Sousuke is supposed to be help to anyone handle four drunken toned and muscled men when he can’t even handle leaving his apartment and finding the mailbox without GPS.

     Haru determines he’s crossed over past buzzed when he’s unknowingly voicing those thoughts out loud for the whole table.

     Rei thankfully is too wrapped up in screeching at his phone to hear but Nagisa laughs so hard he falls face forward on the table and Rin likewise peels off of Nagisa and crashes onto Haru snickering. Rin is unbearably cuddly when drunk. He has to reach out and touch everyone and everything when he talks and more often than not ends up a melted puddle of cuddles on someone once he loses control of all his motor skills.

     He’s resting his pointy chin on Haru’s shoulder, attempting to explain through mixed English and Japanese that Sousuke is very capable of finding his way. Rin trails off into something vaguely dirty sounding but Haru finds himself yanked away forcefully before he can begin to process what Rin is talking about now.

     Haru jerks around, almost expecting to see Sousuke aggressively overreacting again that he’s near Rin. However, it’s Makoto. Rin tries to pull Haru back to his side, protesting that they were chatting about important things, but he’s stopped. Makoto palms his face and pushes him away harshly, growling “Mine” as he yanks Haru close until he’s flush against Makoto’s side. Rei starts to scold Makoto for his unruly and unnecessary actions when he’s silenced by a dark glare.

     Haru reminds himself again that now is certainly not the time or the place for Haru to be realizing how turned on he is by possessive Makoto. He likes this side of Makoto, a lot. He crosses and uncrosses his legs unsuccessfully trying to make his erection less obvious, especially since he’s practically on top of Makoto. Even when he tries to lean away, Makoto loops an arm around Haru, reeling him back into place.

     Makoto only grows bolder once Haru resigns himself to his new permanent position. Haru shivers when Makoto leans into his ear whispering low and sweet when he wants to speak. His lips brush against the shell of Haru’s ear, asking if he’s having a good time. Haru manages to nod, biting the inside of his cheek to hush any noise that threatens to squeak out.

     Makoto is going to be the death of me.

     This is the reaction he’s been wanting from Makoto. Maybe a little more extreme than he would have anticipated, but it is confirmation that he wasn’t wrong. Haru was right the first time at the pool, Makoto likes him too, likes him very much it seems. He just has to figure out how to pull this honesty out of Makoto when he’s sober so he can admit what they both already know. He’d love to keep pushing, seeing how far Makoto is willing to go but he wants that when Makoto is coherent enough to make those kinds of decisions on his own.

     Sousuke finally arrives, standing around lost by the door until Nagisa waves him over, pitifully overdramatic Rin whimpering in his lap. He’s still holding his face, nose red and tender from being smooshed by Makoto’s hand earlier, bemoaning the loss of his post-athletic modeling career. It’s not broken, but it’s in pretty rough shape. Rei nearly leaps from his spot, visibly relieved that someone else has arrived to help mediate the chaos that’s blossoming at their table. His greeting is overlooked when Sousuke sees Rin’s face.

     “The fuck happened here?” he growls, eyeing Haru instantly and provoking the most sarcastic eye roll ever performed. Makoto straightens up protectively leaning between Haru and Sousuke.

     “Maybe he should learn to keep his hands to himself and he won’t get hurt again.” Makoto replies, tilting his head slightly. His normal sunny and friendly aura is gone, replaced with something heavier. No one dares breathe as the tension rises between Sousuke and Haru and the temperature drops to nothing as they stare each other down.

     “I don’t think I like your attitude right now, Makoto.” Sousuke rolls his good shoulder, glowering at Makoto.

     “You should settle down, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt too.” Makoto says.

     Sousuke shrugs off his jacket, slamming his hand down on the table and steps back. Makoto starts to try and stand up and that’s a blaring warning that they are about to do something very stupid. Nagisa fumbles with his phone trying to get the camera ready and starts to chant “fight, fight, fight!” until Rei clamps a hand over his mouth, pleading with him not to egg either of them on.

     Haru’s hazy brain thinks it would be unexpectedly hot to watch Makoto get into a fight but it’s probably a better idea to stop him. He grabs Makoto’s sleeve, anchoring him from moving. “Makoto, let’s go home.”

     Rin chooses that exact same moment to notice Sousuke’s presence and both men are thoroughly distracted from their earlier intent to fight. While Sousuke is wrapped up in comforting Rin, Haru slips out of the booth with Makoto. He sloshes out an apology to Rei as he swats Makoto’s hand away from his ass. In another place under different circumstance he would love to have his ass fondled by Makoto, but just not right now. They need to look like they can be trusted staggering home alone right now.

     Rei looks like he want to offer additional help or question their capabilities but then his eyes nervously dart to Makoto and he rethinks it. He tells them he hopes they both make it safely and to call if anything comes up. They wave goodbye to everyone and start heading home, Haru awkwardly supporting Makoto’s weight as they walk. He’s still continuing to try and grab Haru’s ass, sometimes missing and grasping his thigh or sides instead.

     Haru decides drunken Makoto must be divine punishment for getting a boner in front of his friends.

Chapter Text

     Through some miracle, they make it back to Haru’s apartment. He’s completely exhausted from carrying Makoto the entire way, too unstable to stand up on his own. If that wasn’t enough of a struggle he also had to ward off Makoto’s constant attempts to feel him up in public.

     Haru is never going to let Makoto drink that much ever again.

     Now that they’re home, there’s just a small walk from the front door to the bedroom left and then he can collapse. Haru has already decided that Makoto would take the bed. He’s too tall and too plastered to be trusted on the narrow couch. His bed is too small for both of them so Haru resigns himself to the couch, planning to grab spare blankets and a pillow once he gets Makoto taken care of.

     They make it to the bedroom despite Makoto tripping over his feet several times. Haru tells him to get ready for bed and Makoto unbuttons his shirt, fumbling with the buttons as he works his way down. Once he’s undone the final button, Makoto stands there teetering as he stares at Haru frowning. He’s still holding onto him for support. With how he’s been acting he’s probably just upset that Haru didn’t let him touch his butt.

     Still…

     Haru with full brain function would know better than to ask, but with his own buzz he can’t filter bad ideas from good ones as efficiently. Makoto looks so distressed. He just wants to fix it. Makoto isn’t allowed to be so upset looking.

     “What is it, Makoto?” he asks.

     Makoto takes a minute to register what Haru’s said before replying.

     “Put on my shirt.”

     Haru for all the effort he puts into trying to understand can’t see why this is more important than going to sleep. “No, Makoto we need, we need to use the sleep.” He fights off a yawn and tries to gently bully Makoto into lying down on the bed.

     “Just do it. It’ll be…” The rest of Makoto’s sentence trails off as he gets stuck in his own sleeves, trying to remove his red plaid shirt. His coordination is far below what he needs to get undressed alone. Haru had a feeling this would happen. Haru takes pity on him and helps him strip it off; unnecessarily squeezing Makoto’s muscles as he does so. He can’t help himself, Makoto is temptingly attractive. Once the shirt is off, Makoto insists repeatedly that he put the plaid button up on while trying to dress Haru in his shirt, attempting to force Haru’s arms into the sleeves.

     Haru caves and agrees to put it on, hoping that if he goes along with this request Makoto will finally listen and go to bed, and then he can go to bed too. His buzz is fading from fun into a throbbing headache and he would much rather sleep it off until morning than argue with Makoto about a stupid shirt.

     “Stop it. I’ll put it on myself.” Haru says.

     Makoto’s eyes sparkle instantly, “Really?” he asks.

     Haru scowls and stops dressing himself to look at Makoto.

     Don’t make me change my mind.

     As expected, it’s too big on him. His fingertips barely peek out from the ends of the sleeves and the bottom hem of the shirt reaches just past mid-thigh. It feels soft against his skin and overwhelmingly smells like Makoto. He’s being considering “accidentally borrowing” this from Makoto for a while.

     There’s no chance Makoto’s ever getting his shirt back now.

     Makoto smiles softly, tenderly staring at Haru wearing his clothes. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Haru. Most silences between them are comfortable, but this one isn’t. Haru fidgets; uselessly trying to push the sleeves up past is elbows only for them to fall down again. He can’t read what Makoto is thinking at all.

     Why isn’t Makoto saying anything?

     Their bond is a little diluted with the alcohol, but Makoto seems to catch on to how uncomfortable Haru is. Finally, he says something.

     “Just like I thought. It suits you. You look cute.”

     It’s so blatantly honest that Haru can’t help but feel embarrassed, looking away immediately and pursing his lips in a pout. How is anyone supposed to react to that? It was better when Makoto wasn’t saying anything at all.

     Makoto reaches out to apologize but he loses his balance, pulling Haru with him as he falls backwards. They land with a soft thud on the bed. Haru is perched over Makoto, straddling him with his hands planted just above Makoto’s shoulders. This isn’t how he wanted to end up in this position at all. Every nerve in his body is crackling, hypersensitive under the alcohol’s influence. Haru battles with himself not to look down, but his resolve is weak. His best friend is giggling under him, reaching up to brush the fringe out of his eyes.

     “You’re so beautiful, Haru.”

     Haru is sure they’ll have to invent a new name for the color his face has turned. He feels like he’s in physical pain with how embarrassed he is at those words. Makoto always knows exactly what to say to pluck at the deepest parts of him, even drunk apparently.

     Really, he’s never allowed to drink ever again.

     Nuzzling against the pillows Makoto starts to close his eyes and drift off. His soft mumblings replaced with shallow breathing. Haru didn’t exactly expect Makoto to spill more sweet nothings at him, but falling asleep so abruptly is equally unexpected.

     He still feels almost upset though. Where is all this behavior when Makoto is sober and Haru is scrambling for this kind of attention? Haru has spent the better part of two weeks throwing himself at Makoto, completely destroying the boundaries between “best friends” and making his feelings bluntly clear. Tonight has shown Makoto’s feelings are more than platonic, so why won’t he open up about it so they can make out already?

     Haru sits back on his heels and rubs his temples. His head hurts too much to deal with this right now. He climbs off of Makoto, there are still a few more things to do before he sleeps. Makoto can’t sleep in the bed with his shoes still on so Haru wrestles them off before kicking off his own shoes. It had been too much trouble to remove them earlier, afraid he’d drop Makoto if he stopped moving.

     It’s not entirely comfortable to sleep fully dressed, Haru knows from experience so he shimmies out of his tight pants and tosses them with the laundry. He starts to undue the buttons of Makoto’s plaid shirt then stops. Makoto never wakes up first and with the colossal hangover he’ll be nursing in the morning means Haru will have plenty of time to change.  Makoto will never know.

     He retrieves a plush spare comforter out of his closet and turns off the lights. Haru’s so tired at this point that he has to actively keep his eyes open and the scant space next to Makoto looks increasingly inviting instead of trudging out to the narrow, lumpy, lonely couch.

     I have to get up early and change anyways…

     Cautiously he crawls into the bed with Makoto. Haru unfurls the comforter over them, tucking the edges in over his friend. It’s still a tight fit, even with him pressed up against Makoto’s chest. He snuggles closer, tucking his head under Makoto’s chin. If Makoto hadn’t spent the second half of his evening trying to grope Haru he might feel bad for taking advantage of the situation.

     But Makoto did.

     Makoto tried to grab his butt a lot.

     So he doesn’t feel bad, not even a little. 

Chapter Text

     Makoto wakes up first.

     Makoto wakes up first, wishing very much that he wasn’t awake at all. He’s nauseous, even sitting up is enough motion to send his stomach reeling. Thankfully, the room is dark and quiet at least, reducing the pain of his pounding headache. How much did he drink last night? He doesn’t remember leaving the bar let alone how he got home.

     His eyes adjust, becoming less unfocused as he wakes up more. It looks like he’s at Haru’s place, in his room. He must be in Haru’s bed then. The sheets next to him ruffle and Haru’s head pops up. His hair is messily ruffled and he’s in… Makoto’s shirt?

     Haru yawns and rubs the sleep out of his eyes with Makoto’s sleeve. He blinks a few times before realizing Makoto is awake, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.

     “How you feeling?” Haru asks voice soft and quiet.

     Makoto inhales sharply as the blanket slides down, revealing that Haru is only in boxers and his shirt. They’re in the same bed. They haven’t shared a bed since junior high. His heart beats against his ribcage. He can’t remember much that happened after that first shot. There’s some blurry memories of hanging out with his friends at the bar but it is blank between there and what’s happening right now.

     What if they… no there’s no way that happened. But…

     Haru tilts his head listening to Makoto as he attempts to speak. He has no doubt that Makoto must be feeling awful right now and his own hangover is slight enough that he doesn’t mind taking care of Makoto this morning.

     “H-Ha-Haru, did we, I mean I don’t remember but did we have..?” Makoto looks like he’s going to die if he says the ‘sex’ word.

     “No.” Haru replies, more curtly than he intends to. After all, Makoto put him through considerable stress the previous night.

     Makoto looks relieved but also disappointed. “Oh, then what did happen?”

     Haru can’t do anything but stare dumbstruck at Makoto. He had forgotten how endlessly infuriating Makoto was sober. He doesn’t have the sheer energy or will to begin explaining what happened last night, but no they didn’t have sex that’s for sure. They did absolutely nothing because after Makoto finally ceased trying to grab his ass he spouted affectionate drivel and fell asleep on both pillows. You know, maybe if they had screwed, they could be having a minorly awkward conversation about it and moving forward into a romantic relationship.

     They could even be having great sex right now if Makoto could just-

     Haru stops and takes a deep breath. The residual headache and sexual frustration is just making him needlessly upset and he shouldn’t take it out on Makoto. Haru gets out of bed without answering Makoto’s question just yet and heads to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother to put his pants on or turn on the lights. They’re both too sensitive for lights and pants sound so difficult. What they do need, is water. Some water will do them both some good.

     When he returns Makoto is sitting up a little. He reaches out and takes the cup from Haru, greedily gulping everything down. Haru takes small sips from his own cup. Rei would tell him it’s scientifically impossible, but he feels better just being with Makoto and suffering through this together.

     …Until Makoto asks about what happened last night again.

     Haru had hoped Makoto’s tender head would keep him well distracted from the topic for hours to come. He tries to gloss over the events of last night. He mentions the tequila shot that they did together, replaying and sending the video to Makoto’s cell and that Sousuke got lost on the way there, as usual. There was more drinking and they were all a little tipsy except for Rei. Rin and Nagisa were loud and it was lots of fun or something then shortly after Sousuke got there, they went back to Haru’s passing out as soon as they got to the bed.

     The end.

     Makoto crosses his arms and disapprovingly looks at Haru until he feels guilty for omitting details. He didn’t lie, but Makoto can still sense he’s being untruthful somehow. Haru rolls his eyes and tries to push up the too long sleeves of Makoto’s plaid shirt.

     “It doesn’t matter.”

     “Please? I’d rather not find out from Nagisa, he always makes things sound worse than they were.”

     Haru chews his lip and looks away. In this case, Nagisa probably couldn’t make things sound worse than they were. Reluctantly, he adds in the details he previously left out, watching Makoto’s face grow increasingly mortified at his own behavior.

     Haru still can’t bring himself to repeat all that happened once he got Makoto back to his apartment.

     “Oh my god. Haru, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll never do that again…” Makoto rattles off how inappropriate his behavior was, how he wouldn’t disrespect Haru like that, their friendship is too important… blah, blah, blah.

     Haru catches Makoto eyeing his pale thighs as he speaks, stuttering over his words as he does so. Despite what his words say, Haru can tell Makoto wants to do it again. Timid and dense Makoto is never going to admit that though. He still hasn’t registered that Haru very much wants it to happen again too. Not at any point has Haru said he was offended at Makoto’s behaviors or upset that they happened at all. If anything, the fact Makoto has made the assumption on his own that Haru doesn’t want it to happen again miffs him. Makoto isn’t even apologizing for the right thing.

     “Please don’t be upset with me, I didn’t mean to-”

     “I’m not upset, I’m fine.”

     “Haru you are the opposite of fine. Can we talk about this?”

     Haru huffs, he would rather not talk about this at all but he knows that won’t happen. The last time he was this upset with Makoto he took off to another hemisphere. He doesn’t like it, but he knows talking about it is a better way to handle things. He just doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to bring up the reason he’s upset. “Makoto, I’m displeased you won’t grab my butt when you’re sober” is accurate, but probably not the best way to breach that topic. He’d like it a lot more if things were that easy, but they aren’t.

     “Drop it, Makoto.”

      “Just tell me why you’re so upset with me, Haru!”

     “Because you won’t take a damn hint!”

     Haru grabs the sides of Makoto’s face in his hands and smashes their lips together. Words are doing him absolutely zero good so he hopes his actions can convey everything he’s felt up until now. He had day-dreamed their first kiss would be a little sweeter, tasting like lemons and sunshine but this is just as good, maybe better.

     It’s only a moment before Makoto responses, kissing back sincerely. Haru lets his hands move from Makoto’s face to wrap around his neck, climbing into his lap. Makoto tugs at the plaid shirt, urging Haru closer, kisses migrating over his jaw and neck before returning to his lips.

     “Oh wow, I’d be mad at me too for not noticing.” Makoto sighs.

     Haru whines and leans into the kiss, knocking Makoto back into the wall. They continue, sloppily melding their mouths together. Makoto traces his tongue over Haru’s lower lip, biting it softly. Haru grinds into Makoto’s hips, hissing at the friction. He wants to taste every inch of Makoto’s mouth, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. They’re so frenzied from finally, finally acting on their desires that the concept of restrain is unfathomable. Makoto is tracing his finger over Haru’s sides, purposely making him squirm. It’s dangerously unfair and Haru sinks his nails in Makoto’s back.

     That seems to be their limit this morning, teasing and kissing. The urgency between them dies down and a few minutes later they part, panting and flushed. Haru rests his forehead against Makoto’s and squeezes him tight. Makoto reaches up, playing with Haru’s hair and chuckles.

     “You know, I thought you were acting a little flirty.”

     “I was trying to seduce you.”

     Makoto kisses him once more, long and sweet before explaining that he’d assumed it was just wishful thinking on his part. They kiss lightly a few more times, nowhere as intensely as their earlier make out session. Haru is sure his head is still spinning from that, although part of it could be his hangover.

     He’s knows all the stars he’s seeing are because of Makoto though.

     “Do you want to go out today?” Haru asks.

     “Like on a date?”

     “We’re boyfriends, aren’t we?”

     Makoto hugs him a little too tight, popping Haru’s back and nods. They both look like hell from the night prior and decide to clean up a little before leaving. Haru especially wants to brush his teeth. He can taste his own mouth and it’s bad, bad enough that he doesn’t see how Makoto put up with it.

     They take turns in the bathroom, Makoto going first. When they switch, Haru takes the fastest shower he can get away with and hangs over the sink, scrubbing his mouth clean. Next time he kisses Makoto, he doesn’t want it to taste like tequila and morning breath. Once satisfied, he gets dressed, pulling his cream cashmere sweater over his head.

     Makoto is still looking for something to wear. He sifts through the closet; holding up more and more shirts with shock as he realizes just how many things Haru has ‘accidentally borrowed’ while he tries to pick out his outfit. He settles on a green button up eventually, but also sets aside a pile of things that need to return to his on closet when he goes home.

     Haru wonders if it would be that hard to convince Makoto to move in so he doesn’t have to give back anything.

     When they’re finally cleaned up, they layer on jackets and scarves in anticipation of the cold weather. Haru stands there, allowing Makoto to fuss over him, kissing the tip of his already red nose before they leave. For once, Makoto doesn’t scold him about gloves and frostbite, instead grabbing his hand tightly, warming it with his own.

     “Where are we going?” Makoto asks.

     Haru holds a single finger over his lips, signaling that it’s a surprise. They walk holding hands, wiggling their fingers together, winding down different side streets Haru only remembers fuzzily. He knows exactly where he’s looking for and hopes that he can still find it now that’s he’s sober. Haru got more than a little turned around trying to lead Makoto back to his apartment and stumbled across the place completely by accident. The minute he saw it he knew he had to take Makoto.

     Haru knows he’s found it when Makoto lets out an unruly squeal.

     A cat café.

      It’s only twenty minutes away from Haru’s apartment and the large display windows show cats of every color and size, leaping around and rubbing against the legs of customers. Haru leads him inside; smiling at the childish way Makoto vibrates with excitement at the chance to be near so many cats at once. Haru’s excited too; Makoto isn’t the only one who loves cats.

     They’re promptly seated once inside and Haru pays for at least two hours of cat time. He’s pleased to find out they offer a small assortment of snacks and drinks as well, stomach rumbling when he realizes he traded a real breakfast in favor of kissing Makoto more. It’s also inevitable that they purchase treats for the hoard of cats that have gathered around their table.

     Someone comes back with their order, two cups of hot chocolate and a freakishly large piece of cake Makoto sweet talked him into sharing, saying that he couldn’t finish something like that all on his own. Haru knows that’s a lie, he’s seen Makoto eat entire cakes by himself. He doesn’t complain though when Makoto reaches over, feeding Haru with his fork dainty bites of the fluffy angel food cake.

     Haru looks across the table at Makoto, sparks shooting across his pulse when Makoto looks back at him like he’s everything and more. Being in love is still a little weird feeling, but he can put up with it if it’s Makoto.