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Yuki should’ve immediately noticed the stiffness in Haru’s shoulders. The way his figure moved with cautiousness, secretive in ways Yuki couldn’t discern from first glance. The way his hands always seemed to hide beneath the denim pockets of his pants, sleeves tending to be longer rather than nonexistent. It took nearly two weeks, however, for the older boy to realize something was actually wrong, his thoughts leading him in right direction rather than overthought.
That moment sprung about following another incident at Shigure’s house. Specifically, an incident which led to (familiar) destruction of the house itself. So the entirety of the house was dragged into cleaning, Kyo and Tohru covering the outside area while the kitchen damage still remained. And Hatsuharu, having been over for dinner and a primary witness, decidedly helped with clean up. Yuki, too, began gathering scattered glass and ceramic shards with a knowing sigh. The kitchen had been reduced to an utter mess after all. He was used to this fiery, restless atmosphere though and didn’t voice any complaints.
What he wasn’t used to was seeing Haru maintain a pained expression. For when Yuki glanced over briefly — simply wondering if the boy had made decent progress — it wasn’t just what he saw that irked worry. It was the muffled, secluded wince that breached his ears and also dissipated soon after slipping past Haru’s lips. One indicating obvious hurt. One Haru instantly tried to hide, his palms retreating to find confidentiality within his pockets.
But Yuki had seen. He had seen more than enough, wanting to uncover what made Haru so easy to shy away.
“Haru…”
“It’s nothing,” The younger boy mumbled unconvincingly.
He was able to conceal what directly caused pain, yet he wasn’t able to discard the lingering pain which had settled inside his usually warm, brown gaze. All it took was a singular glance to make Yuki know, and Haru seemed to recognize that, repeating himself.
“It’s nothing, Yuki.”
Instead of answering Haru, Yuki simply reached over him. Brushing shards of glass — which had likely been the cause of his pain — into his dustpan, he wordlessly rose to his feet. Then the older boy gripped Haru by the elbow, tugging him along behind him.
He easily weaved up the stairs while still holding Haru’s elbow tightly, easing away Shigure who they passed with an ‘in a minute’ type of look. This left no one to stop them once Yuki drew Haru into the nearby washroom, closing the door and leaving no escape.
“Sit down,” Yuki stated with his back still turned away from him. There wasn’t anger layering his voice but a simple, kindled concern. Although, his words did sound more like an order as opposed to a suggestion.
Haru sighed more to himself than Yuki yet still listened, back pressed against the vanity mirror once he levered himself atop its counter. With a sigh of his own, Yuki swiveled around on his feet, now mere inches from Haru. There was a skeptical type of look pinching at Yuki’s features, and he glanced at every part of Haru’s body, finally settling on his pockets.
His goddamn pockets where his hands were always so quick to find refuge.
“Let me see.”
“What?”
“Let me see your hands, Haru.”
“There’s nothing to see.”
“Haru,” Now a stern tone had overtaken Yuki’s voice. It let Haru know he was growing increasingly impatient.
“Fine,” Haru mumbled with a conceded expression. His palms gingerly left his pockets, only scratching the material briefly. “Just don’t freak out.”
Yuki swallowed roughly as he took Haru’s hands into account. He lightly maneuvered them under his touch, precariously assessing the damage among other aspects. Veins protruded from underneath, turquoise and purple and slightly less evident due to the sun-exposed shade Haru’s skin had taken from long, sunny hours outside. An evident redness circled his knuckles, the bony ligaments swelled slightly on the surface — likely from lack of attention. Torn skin traced the same area as an added element, practically uprooted against its will, bruising dark in hue.
If Yuki’s face didn’t emphasize his gravitated worry, then his words certainly did. “What…- What happened?”
“I’ve been getting into fights at school,” The younger boy clarified, and a sudden aggression overtook his voice while he spoke. Almost as if Haru was remembering the spark of anger that had ignited each fight. “Teaching people to keep their mouths shut.”
“What could be so important that you’d fight them for it?”
Now Haru’s gaze began to waver. He refrained from meeting Yuki’s observant stare anymore. Yuki’s very observant stare.
“Don’t tell me…”
Haru took one of his hands away from Yuki to rub at his face. “It was for you. They were insulting you right in front of me, how was I just supposed to—"
“—Haru, that’s not something for you to deal with. That’s my problem, not yours. I don’t want you—” He gestured to the bloody mess and disregarded cuts that were Haru’s palms. “—getting hurt because of me. I’m more worried about that than myself.”
“But Yuki—“
“No buts. Look, Haru, I’m really grateful that you care that much. I just can’t allow you to undergo such lengths because of me.”
“What if I wanted to?”
“I know you do, but I’m telling you it’s okay. There will always be people who like me… and people who don’t. I can’t be liked by everyone — that’s just a plain and simple fact.”
“Okay…”
A wave of shame then washed over Haru, eyes practically glued to his dangling feet, unwilling to meet Yuki’s. Almost like he was a child being scolded. But he wasn’t a child. No, he was just someone strong-willed who didn’t want to believe he’d been wrong.
“Let me clean you up?” Yuki asked softly, attentive towards the way Haru suddenly seemed dejected. He gently peeled Haru’s hand from his face and placed it back upon his own lap.
How could Haru ever deny a request such as that? One so full of care that he felt like he could see right through Yuki. “Mmm.”
Taking that response as a yes, Yuki kneeled down to search the cabinets. When he returned, he held a medicine kit and bottle of rubbing alcohol. Haru immediately eyed the bottle knowing all too well of the impending hurt.
Yuki noticed this, breathing out a small bit of laughter. “It’ll only sting a little,” He promised as he stood up.
The bottle didn’t seem to matter in Haru’s perspective anymore, entirely forgotten like a faded memory covered in dust. Hell, he forgot about anything influencing them and their current situation, gaze trained on Yuki’s features. Yuki’s lips were slightly upturned, reassurance oozing from every crevice of his face.
He also decided that he trusted Yuki more than he feared any pain.
Haru hummed in understanding while Yuki inched closer, his waist breaching the space between Haru’s legs. And, even though there was fabric preventing any skin on skin contact, he was sure Yuki could feel his whole body burning.
The older boy’s hands were careful while he lifted up Haru’s fingers. Slowly Yuki began cleaning away the ickiness his skin had succumbed to, and god, god did it sting. But Haru didn’t mutter anything, not a single wince slipping past his lips, as he could only look at Yuki. So sucked in by the focused intent Yuki viewed him under.
Before he knew it, it was done. “See, that wasn’t too bad, right?” Yuki placed the supplies back in their rightful containers, eyesight flickering up to look at Haru.
“I’m a good patient, is all,” Haru claimed as a modest reply. For it was honestly true as he could’ve complained ten times over about the singeing pain.
“Well, I’m just glad you’re all patched up now,” The older boy answered, not taking any bait awaiting him in Haru’s words. “I don’t mind taking care of you.”
“And I don’t mind being taken care of. As long as it’s you.”
Neither of them was sure what these proclamations meant for them. Did they entail nothing? Did they entail everything? Were they easy, non-heartfelt claims to fill the space between them?
Hatsuharu didn’t know if he was breathing within the moment. The air within his lungs seemed to have ceased its circulation. The weight of them lied upon his shoulders, the what ifs — and what they could be — crushing. His next action could convey an entire essay, or light the dozens of words, that were in need of saying, aflame before his very eyes. That’s why Haru had to be cautious as he reached towards Yuki.
Slowly branching out, he cupped Yuki’s jawline, grey hair tickling the surface of his palm. This caused Yuki to tense up a bit, likely having not expected such touch nor confidence. The older boy’s eyes were glued to Haru’s outstretched limb, yet he didn’t say anything. Didn’t utter a word — of protest, or of encouragement.
“What are you doing?” Yuki finally asked. His tone was quiet, delicate, careful, and vulnerable all wrapped into a singular voice. This left Haru unable to pinpoint a specific emotion which could be layering his question.
Haru’s lip tilted upwards at one corner, the obliviousness Yuki bathed in painful. “I’m going to kiss you, if that’s what you want?”
“I—“ He glanced up at Haru and took in everything of their current placement. They were so close, touching now through Haru’s hand on his face, and Yuki felt stupid for not realizing where this was going. This was, of course, bound to happen. “It’s what I want.”
That was all the confirmation Haru needed, mumbling out a brief “okay” in the midst of his focus. His focus which was entirely on Yuki, hooded gaze trained on his every movement, hanging off every bit of syrup dripping from his voice.
Haru then prodded Yuki closer, Yuki’s front practically smushed against the counter Haru still sat upon. Usually Haru would be shorter than Yuki, but currently he loomed above him with the counter’s slight advantage. Speaking of Haru, Yuki now had a front row seat to every feeling bleeding across his features similar to an open wound. Intrigue and want had settled within his brown eyes as he viewed Yuki. The distance felt only obligatory at this point, both waiting in an almost stand-off like manner.
It was Haru who closed it, beginning to thread sure fingertips into Yuki’s hair.
He continuously dipped forwards and away from Yuki, the pattern absolutely torturous in many, many ways. It — the pattern — also closely resembled the tide, dragging further on but never staying for too long. Yuki huffed out a breath in between their kisses, slipping his palm behind Haru’s neck to rest at his nape. Now Haru wouldn’t be able to tease nearly as much, Yuki urging him closer using this method.
A breath of laughter eased through Haru’s lips once he took notice of Yuki’s growing keenness. For this scenario was utterly ironic. Haru had liked Yuki for awhile, not wanting to ruin the embers of friendship that had seeded their way into their lives. He’d wanted to kiss Yuki — well, like this — for awhile too. The problem had just been… requisiteness. The younger boy had doubted whether, or not, Yuki returned his feelings. But, that was all being thrown into the depths with each simple press of lips they exchanged.
“Impatient, yeah?” Hatsuharu teased him with a slight curve of his lips. He’d broken away from Yuki to say this, a wet ‘pop’ having indicated such.
Yuki did a once over of him. The older boy debated whether to roughly pull him back in for more, or maybe indulge in a bit of teasing himself. He leaned towards the second option, and looped his arms around Haru’s neck, raising a singular eyebrow.
“I can wait, if you’d prefer that?”
If Haru was expecting anything, it wasn’t that. Now his interest had spiked into overdrive, his feelings for Yuki flaring up within the current moment. The smile accompanying these feelings was almost vicious, sharp in various ways, like a blade having been altered to perfection.
“Oh yeah?” Since Yuki wanted to play hard to get, Hatsuharu would let him. Yet, that didn’t mean he would give Yuki an easy game. It would, for sure, be one of strategy. “Let’s see how long you can wait when I kiss you like this.”
There remained no break in time for Yuki to question what that meant. With a quick shift in how Haru was angling himself downwards, there were lips against Yuki’s neck. They sucked on the once vacant skin, experienced and knowing, ripping a gasp from the base of Yuki’s throat. They made him feel good, this being to the point where Yuki wondered where the hell Haru learned to be this wonderful with his mouth.
Taking Yuki’s silence as a good sign — which it was — Haru tugged his shirt down slightly. He then chose a new spot to be his victim, softly teething at it. And everytime Haru might’ve bit too roughly he would brush overtop the area with his lips, seemingly kissing it better. Yuki couldn’t take this waiting game any longer, his fingertips flying to grip at Haru’s multicolored locks.
“Was this worth the wait?”
“Mhm,” Was Yuki’s reply that he practically sighed out. He had to resist the urge to audibly shiver at the way Haru’s voice hummed through his entire neck. “Definitely worth the wait. All of it.”
Haru knew that, in that moment, Yuki didn’t just mean the neck kisses nor the kissing alone. Yuki was referring to everything instigating their current setup. The care that had blossomed, overshadowed by both of their doubts until neither of them could deny its gravitational pull. The glances that sometimes lingered longer than deemed appropriate — for mere friends, anyways. The conversations which never fizzled far from being comfortable. Everything.
“Good.”
⋇⋆ ✦ ⋆⋇
After a few more minutes of blissful torment, the thrumming Haru’s lips had caused went elsewhere. So did the sensation itself, Haru having leaned back with a satisfied sigh, his hands settled upon Yuki’s waist.
The lighting of the vanity Haru still sat upon swirled within his brown irises. It bathed his features as well, forcing Yuki to be unable to look anywhere but the younger boy. Not that he would want to, their atmosphere filled endlessly with contentment.
Yuki’s shirt looked as if it had seen better days, the fabric ruffled intensely. All seemed fair, however, when viewing the skin it was supposed to be covering. Said skin adorned multiple blotchy markings courtesy of the very boy before him. Some were pink. Some were red. Some were purple. It depended on how long Haru had focused on the specific spot. But, Yuki couldn’t find it in himself to care about that right now. That was a roadblock for future Yuki.
“I really like you Yuki, you know?” Breathed Haru into the space between them, relaxation coating his words. “And I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”
“I’d hope so,” Yuki responded, amusement weighing on his tone. “But I like you too, Haru. I have for awhile actually.”
“Really? That’s ironic.”
“Ironic how?”
“Because I’ve liked you for awhile as well. Probably since that moment back when we were just kids.”
“Oh.”
Yuki could picture that moment in pristine condition. Although it wasn’t exactly positive, Haru’s then smaller frame having yelled with all his might at Yuki, the memory was pivotal. Yuki had met another zodiac. He saw in the flesh just how damaging their bond — curse — turned out to be for other members of the Sohma Clan. He wasn’t alone in his suffering, and neither was Haru.
“I’m really grateful to have met you that day, Yuki. Otherwise I still might hate you — something I don’t even want to imagine.”
“Well, you don’t have to imagine it. We’re not free of Akito, but we don’t have to let what others say weigh so heavily upon us anymore. I’m here. You’re here. That’s all that matters in the great prospect.”
Haru smiled earnestly, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of Yuki’s neck. “You’re right. You’re what matters to me, anyways. Not anyone else.”
Urging his hand further into Haru’s hair, Yuki’s fingertips carded through the strands. “I don’t think anyone could ever matter in my perspective besides you.”
He pondered everything closely within this moment. Everything him and Haru had been through leading to now. Everything that hadn’t occurred yet, the scales teetering on the edge of favor. How Yuki once never knew another being on a new level — let alone intimately. How Haru used to visit him in that lonely, dark room with Rin lingering as a reassurance, daring to defy what rules could enact grave punishment.
Neither of them were sure where time would lead them. After all, they’d wasted an immense amount of it already on foolish thoughts and worries. Yet waiting had lead them to their own fate, and it was truly worth it. Worth it when they could hold each other where it wouldn’t fix everything but could mean everything.