Chapter Text
Every single friday without fail, Haruka comes to Makoto’s apartment after practice. He never rings the doorbell, and he doesn’t need to because Makoto makes sure to leave the door open knowing Haru will come. Makoto is sitting at his desk doing homework when he hears the door open followed by Haru unzipping his jacket. He looks at him from across the room, genuinely happy to see him, a smile planted firmly on his lips.
“How was practice?” he asks, putting his pencil down.
Haru takes his shoes off before walking into the room and dropping down on the small couch. “Tiring,” he mutters.
It’s not news. He is always pretty exhausted when coming, falling asleep on the couch more often than not. Makoto can see it in the way he walks, slightly dragging his feet over the floor. He can see it in his motions, slower than usual. And he can see it in his face and the way he tries to hide a yawn behind his hand.
“Have you eaten anything yet?” he wonders and stands up because he already knows the answer.
“No.”
“I’ll make you something then.”
He always does, after all. And Haru always replies something along the lines of “You don’t have to”. Today, however, he stays quiet. Makoto turns towards him and smiles at the sight in front of him. Haru is sitting slightly slouched forward, head tilted down to one side, breathing softly.
Makoto chuckles and lets him sleep for now, moving him carefully so that he is laying down on the couch instead. That way he won’t wake up with a stiff neck. Then he walks over to the kitchen and debates what to make. His apartment is small, so it’s not much of a kitchen. He would rather call it a little corner in the room for making food. It’s not really that bad, and enough room for him to move around.
When opening the refrigerator he realizes just how short he is on food. He has basically been living on cup noodles and street food lately. For him it isn’t that big of a deal, even though it would be nice to have a proper meal. Haru on the other side is more picky when it comes to his meals, and he knows that he misses eating proper food. Just yesterday he was complaining about not having enough money for mackerel.
He makes a spontaneous decision and grabs his wallet before heading out, leaving Haru with a note. If he is careful with his money the rest of the week, he should just about have enough for the fish. He knows he already has some rice at home, which is a silent comfort.
It’s dark outside by now, and the people walking by him are probably heading home after a long day at work. He likes the atmosphere around that time of the day. It is as if all the stress from the day is slipping out of people, making them take their time to look up and smile as they passes each other on the street.
The closest grocery store is small, and he knows it in and out by now, so he is able to grab the mackerel and head for the checkout in barely a minute. The girl sitting there is around his own age. She has long, black hair tied up in a messy ponytail and Makoto still thinks she looks beautiful. He admires people who can do that without trying.
“Thank you,” she says as he hands her the money. “I’ve seen you before, do you by any chance live around here?”
“Just around the corner,” he replies politely and takes the bag.
“Me too. My name is Kaori.” She smiles sweetly, looking directly at him.
“I’m Makoto, nice to meet you.”
“I’ll see you around, then. You seem like a nice guy.”
He chuckles slightly, not entirely sure how to respond. “Thank you,” he settles for, and then he is outside again, walking home to Haru.
When he opens the door quietly, the raven is still sleeping where he left him. He picks up the note he left and puts it away. Then he takes out the fish and places it on the counter. He isn’t entirely sure how to cook it perfectly like Haru does, but he is sure he will come up with something. Rice is easier, that much he can do.
About fifteen minutes later he puts two plates on the table. The mackerel turned out good, and he is proud of himself for not burning it. He does not have any kinds of vegetables to add to the dish, but he knows Haruka doesn’t care anyway.
He walks over to him and crouches down to wake him.
“Haru?” he calls, shaking his shoulder gently.
It takes some nudging, but eventually he gets him alert enough to sit up. Haru take a few sniffs from the air and looks at Makoto with wonder written all over his face. Makoto has to bite his tongue to avoid laughing.
“Would you perhaps like some mackerel?” he asks teasingly.
Haru rubs his eyes a couple of times, and Makoto thinks it is to wake himself up more, but when he eventually stops and looks at him again, his eyes are teary.
Makoto is too shocked to do anything. It can’t be…
“Are… you crying?” he whispers in wonder.
“No…” Haru utters in a whimper.
But he is, and he is looking up at Makoto with actual tears in his eyes, and then Makoto feels like crying too and suddenly Haru is sitting in his lap, arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” Haru mumbles again and again, pressing his face in the crook of Makoto’s neck.
They sit like that for a couple of minutes and Makoto revels in how good it feels to hold him. It takes him back to when they were kids. Haru used to hold him whenever he was particularly scared of something. He still remember how much the simple act was able to calm him down, how Haru’s small hands held him securely. They hadn’t done that in what felt like forever. He cannot even remember the last time they hugged. Just the two of them.
He repeats the other’s words from earlier, trying to convert all his feelings into a simple sentence. “Thank you, Haru.”
Haru doesn’t answer, but he wasn’t expecting him to either. They sit. No one says anything. Neither of them makes any move to stand up. And it feels so, so good.
He still smells faintly of chlorine, Makoto finds out. It’s nice.
The mackerel is cold by the time they move to the table, sitting side by side. Makoto offers to microwave it, but Haru just shakes his head, picks up the plate and eats. He has his eyes closed, and the brunet dares to sneak little glances at him. He looks almost peaceful. Happy, even.
The plate is completely empty when Haru opens his eyes again.
“You didn’t burn it,” he remarks and leans his head on his shoulder. Makoto is suddenly filled with so much fondness that it feels like he may burst, or cry. Or both.
“I’m glad,” he manages to reply.
They do the dishes side by side. Haru washes, Makoto rinses and dries. Just like how they used to do it back in Iwatobi. It has a nice feeling to it.
Makoto doesn’t need to ask if he is staying over, because he always does on Fridays. He lets Haru take a bath first, but the raven takes his hand when he is about to go and turn off the lights in the living room.
He doesn’t say anything, just leads him towards the bathroom, and Makoto doesn’t dare resist. Not when Haru is like this. He gets this certain determination in his eyes that is almost a little overwhelming. He lets go of his hand only to get undressed. Makoto has an urge to look away and give him his privacy, but Haru captures his eyes, never looking away.
Then he sits down in the bathtub, sighing in content before taking Makoto’s hand again.
Makoto pulls out a stool and sits beside him.
After five minutes, Haru is still holding his hand, but his grip gets weaker. He leans his head on the edge of the tub and brings their conjoined hands towards his cheek.
Makoto wants to cry again, but instead he reaches out with his other hand and pets Haru’s head softly, threading strands of hair through his fingers.
Eventually Haru’s breath evens out and gets deeper, and Makoto can tell he has fallen asleep again.
One part of him knows that he should wake him, dry him off and get him into bed.
Then there’s the other part. The part that is perfectly content just sitting there watching Haru, stroking his hair slowly and holding his hand.
He smiles to himself as he leans down to plant a soft kiss in Haru’s hair, and is stunned by how right it feels.