Archive of Our Own

Harua’s gotten really used to being on a plane. 

By some small miracle, they’ve ended up in business class. Harua can only assume it’s because they’ll be performing so soon after landing; the company wants them as well rested as possible. He’s not complaining at all, because the last time he was on a long haul flight in economy he forgot to bring noise cancelling headphones and was stuck next to a screaming baby. He can only hope this flight to Germany remains peaceful. 

He’s already watched three different movies, and the whole thing is becoming incredibly boring already. How many hours was it left, again? Harua checks the little flight map on his screen; there’s still maybe five hours till they arrive. He’d be sleeping like many other people are right now, but he did earlier, and he doesn’t want to get any more messed up by the time zone change than he already will be. Maki’s next to him, sleeping open-mouthed, and he feels the urge to close it for him but the drool is very slightly endearing for whatever reason.

Harua sighs. He wishes it was as easy for him as it was for his boyfriend to just sleep a whole flight away. Oh, well. He might as well watch one more movie.

The lights are on and the rest of the plane is waking up by the time Harua finishes the movie. Maki slowly wakes up beside him, wiping his mouth and pulling off his headphones.

“Sleep well?” Harua asks, barely loud enough against the constant whirring of the plane.

Maki groans in response, stretching out his neck. He taps the screen in front of him displaying the flight progress.

“Oh, shit,” he exclaims, in English. There’s barely an hour and a half left on the flight. 

“Not much long left, huh? You slept the whole time. I’m kinda jealous.” Harua quips, but he’s watching Maki carefully. His jaw is clenched, brow furrowed just slightly enough for Harua to notice. 

“What’s up?” Harua asks, concerned. At the end of flights, it’s more usual for Maki to be bounding with energy, cabin fever having him ready to bounce off the damn walls. So seeing him tense like this is strange, to say the least. He can think of one reason, at least; it’s the first time they’re ever going to perform in Germany. It feels like a pipe dream, even more so than the arena tours in Japan that they’re just barely getting used to. Maki had spoken previously before about ever performing in Germany, but it was always more like wishful thinking until they had been briefed on their upcoming schedules for the second half of the year, and there it was, in early December. He’d been much more jittery the past few weeks in the same way that he had in the months leading up to their debut. The difference was, where Harua had deliberately put a wall up between him and Maki at that point, there was no need to anymore; a hand on Maki’s knee, head on his shoulder or at the worst of times kidnapping him to the nearest private room to make out (also largely for his own benefit), were enough to calm him. 

Maki shakes his head as he yawns, putting on a smile. 

“I’m fine! Just jet lag,” He insists, looking around them for a second before reaching for Harua’s hand across their seats. “Hey, we’re in Germany!” Maki grins, whispering in the excitedly exaggerated way he does sometimes, squeezing Harua’s hand. 

Maki’s enthusiasm is always infectious these days, so he can’t help but smile in response. 

They’re thankfully not met by too large of a mob as they make their way through the airport. The atmosphere is already perceivably different, even to Harua; the airport signs are in German and English, and aside from the inevitable Starbucks he struggles to recognise many of the stores they pass in the terminal. 

“Hey,” Nicholas says, nudging Maki with his elbow. “You understand the signs, right?” He points up at the signs leading them out of the terminal.

Maki squints a little, pausing as he reads the sign silently, mouthing the words. 

“I mean, I guess? But the English is easier to read, so,” he shrugs. 

Nicholas nods in acknowledgment. Well, at least they had two members that knew what was going on; the only word Harua could make out was exit . It wasn’t like Maki had a lot of opportunities to ever speak German. If he really wanted to practice, Harua might hear him occasionally call his dad to speak German; otherwise, he lacked time to properly study, given the other languages he still had to maintain. 

More recently, he’d made some time, knowing they’d be going soon enough; Maki had been writing in German alongside Harua while he studied English, side by side under the kotatsu. It always sucked trying to do this alone; Harua’s brain couldn’t really wrap his head around the Rs and the Ls, and English grammar made little sense to him. But with Maki next to him there was no issue; he could ask him for any explanation or answer he needed, and he got kisses for the correct answer! A perfect system, if you asked Harua. After an hour, he’d finished several pages of his textbook, which was much better than his usual efforts alone, so he decided that was enough; Harua closed his book, and scooched in closer to Maki, resting his head on Maki’s shoulder to see what he was doing. 

He couldn’t understand a word. It looked like English, but with weird extra letters and accents; it wasn’t something Harua could wrap his head around. 

“What’s that one? B?” he asked Maki, pointing at the B-like symbol in the middle of one of the words. 

“That’s like an ‘s’ sound.”

“Oh.” 

“Here, I’ll teach you a phrase you’ll need to know.” Maki wrote something down on the page, and it used that little B symbol again. Harua lifted his head to move closer to the page “This says Ich heiße Harua .” 

“Ih…?” Harua attempted.

Maki tried to hide a smile. Harua knew Maki found it cute whenever he attempted to learn other languages; especially when he was the one trying to teach him. 

“It’s not a sound we use in Japanese. Ich, ” Maki pronounced again, Harua looking at his mouth more closely. 

“I…hk.”

Maki tilted his head, squinting. “Mm, kinda. You’ll get it eventually. Ich heiße Harua.”

“I..h heiße Harua,” Harua stumbled through the word, but Maki clapped for him regardless. “What’s it mean? My name’s Harua?” 

Maki nodded. 

“Ugh,” Harua leaned back against the couch, grumbling. “I don’t get how you can be so good at all these different languages! You’re even better than me at Korean.” 

“Well I think your Korean is good! It’s cute.”

Harua groaned in response, rolling away from Maki. Sure, his whole image as an idol was centred around the whole cute thing, but he didn’t need to be reminded of it even at home. 

“Hey! Come on, I’m right.”

Harua stubbornly refused to turn around, browsing his phone instead. 

“Haru -chan ,” Maki whined, poking him in the side only to cause Harua to squawk, and move further away. “I promise I won’t call you cute, my baby ikemen .” 

“Wha–?” Harua turned around, his previous dismay turning to amused confusion. “Go back to studying!” He said, unable to hide a small laugh. 

Maki turned back to his work, still grinning. 

Harua hadn’t seen Maki put much more work into German than that; their monthly schedule was still just too busy, and before they knew it they were already in Germany. He could tell Maki was nervous about the expectations being put on him for this concert, being expected to fluently speak his fourth language and in many ways take on the leader’s role, just as Nicholas might when they went to China or Taiwan. 

As usual, they aren’t going to be given the luxury of seeing their accommodation before their performance venue. Even with the European scenery passing them by in their car window, Harua can barely resist nodding off where he sat, too conditioned to falling asleep on the road by this point. Napping on Fuma’s shoulder as the older man scritches his head every so often, the sound of Maki pointing things out to the other members behind them is barely audible in his half-awake-half-asleep state. 

At the concert venue - which is rather large, since they’re performing with other idols too - they run through their rehearsals quickly. They’re a well-oiled machine after performing these songs over and over; it’s the same no matter what stage or what country they perform in. 

It’s once they’re all getting their makeup done later in the day, barely two hours before the concert starts, that Harua notices. He glances up from his phone and catches a glimpse of Maki’s expression in the mirror as the makeup artist dabs concealer onto a recent breakout. There’s determination set in his features that Harua hasn’t seen with such intensity in a long time, maybe even since their debut. A shiver runs down Harua’s spine, causing him to twitch slightly; when he looks back up, the expression has vanished from Maki’s face; mask back on again. 

Unease sets itself into the pits of Harua’s stomach; a rarity before performances these days, even before bigger audiences like these. He can imagine it now; Maki carries whatever stresses he has into the performance, is distracted by it, and becomes guilty and frustrated about it after the concert is over. They’re all prone to it, as idols. It’s impossible to avoid insecurities when being your perfect self is expected of you at all times, whether or not you feel your best. But as a team, they’re responsible for each other’s wellbeing, making sure nobody is left behind; and as Maki’s boyfriend Harua is just sometimes a little better at bringing him out of that headspace. 

He watches the makeup artist give Maki the all-clear and allow him to finally move out of the seat he’d occupied for close to half an hour. 

“Maki,” Harua calls, waving him over. The moment Maki visibly brightens when making eye contact with him makes his heart beat just the tiniest bit faster, but he tamps the feeling down as Maki crosses the room; this isn’t for him. 

He tilts his head to the door. “Let’s head out for a bit.” 

Maki’s brow raises near imperceptibly. “Oh. Sure.” 

“You boys going off somewhere?” Euijoo asks from where he sits in another makeup artist’s chair. 

Harua nods. “Just for a quick walk around. We’ll be back soon, I promise.” 

Euijoo waves them off. “Just don’t do anything Nicholas wouldn’t do.” 

They watch as Nicholas looks up from his phone, indignant, before they both leave the room. The sound of Nicholas calling Euijoo a rat bastard echoes through the door as they walk off. 

“So,” Maki plants his hands into his pockets, which to anyone else might just appear to be nonchalance, but to Harua looks like a performance. “What’s this about?” 

Harua shrugs. “Nothing in particular,” he diverts easily. “Just thought you might like to clear your head a little.” 

Maki nods in acknowledgement, seemingly catching on as they continue to walk slowly down the corridors. There’s other idols around, and staff rushing here and there. It’s not really much less chaotic than their own dressing room, but there’s just something about the hustle and bustle that gives the both of them a little distraction. They’re in the public eye, even now; it’s not like Harua can reach out to hold Maki’s hand as they take this stroll down the chaotic hallways, but at the very least the occasional brush of their fingers against each other is a small comfort. 

It’s a little while before Harua finally speaks. 

“You’re more on edge than you usually are, Maki.” 

Maki hums. “Yeah, I guess so,” he says, without really elaborating. 

“I know it’s nerve-wracking to perform in Germany, but we’re all here with you, too. I don’t want you to take all that pressure onto yourself, Maki.” 

Maki sighs, rubbing at his temples with his hand. It’s at times like this that Harua recalls that even though Maki’s shot way past him in height in the past few years, he’s still just the boy he met in training all those years ago; the same boy that wanted to cry when he was overwhelmed and had the biggest gummy smile when he thought some terrible meme was funny. What had changed was his ability to hide those things when he really wanted to, like he felt that it wasn’t appropriate for him to do that now that he’s no longer the round-faced kid that all of them thought was cute. 

“I know,” Maki says, reluctantly. “It’s just… this is a really big moment for me. Even my dad came back to Germany just to watch us perform, and… yeah.” 

They approach a restroom, and Harua pushes Maki in just for the hell of things. Miraculously, there’s nobody in there, but they’re always on borrowed time in public places like this. 

“Woah, woah– kidnapping me into a random restroom, Harua-kun ? I thought you were against PDA.” Maki muses, resting back against a sink. 

“Mind out of the gutter, Riki-kun, ” he eyes Maki carefully. 

There’s a moment of silence, Harua staring up at Maki through his fringe and Maki looking back down at him. 

“Today’s going to be a really good performance, Maki,” Harua insists, stepping into his boyfriend’s space, adjusting a stray piece of his immaculately styled hair. “You’ve worked really hard to get here.” 

Maki smiles gently at him, the kind of smile that Maki doesn’t often show in front of the others; subdued, but wholly honest. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs in English, because it’s somehow less cringeworthy for the both of them for Maki to say it in English rather than their native language. Harua still gets flustered either way, though, and both of them notice the warmth rising on his cheeks. 

Maki leans down to kiss Harua, just for a few seconds, hand coming up to rest on Harua’s hip. In the almost two years since they’d started dating, Maki had learnt just about all his physical tells; he’d since stopped flinching away from contact, and now leans into Maki’s embrace whenever he can. 

They jump apart when the door to the restroom opens, but it’s just Nicholas. 

“Ha! I knew it, Juju owes me 5000 yen,” he grins at the pair of them, triumphant. “C’mon, K-hyung asked us to do more monitoring.” 

They both follow Nicholas back to their dressing room sheepishly. Euijoo only looks mildly disappointed at the two of them, but swats at Nicholas as he hands over the money from his wallet. 

The next five hours pass through in a rush, as concerts normally seem to these days. When they reach the end of their performances and Maki thanks everyone in a language Harua can’t even begin to understand, he watches on with pride. Maki’s eyes are definitely shiny with tears he’s holding back, and Harua can’t take his eyes off him. 

Harua falls onto his bed with a grunt. He’s still got his makeup on and his hair is feeling just a little too crisp, but he can’t find it in himself to care. At least he’d already taken his contacts out

He’s pulled back off the bed before he can think about falling asleep. 

“Up you get, sleepyhead. You can’t go to bed like that.”

Harua groans as Maki drags him into the bathroom, handing him a makeup wipe that he begrudgingly wipes down his face with. 

“Don’t be so rough on your skin, baby,” Maki nags gently, taking the wipe from his hand and doing it himself. Maki’s hands are precise as he swipes the wet wipe over his skin, taking extra care to remove the stubborn mascara from his sensitive eyelids. 

“There. Better?” Harua can’t give Maki much more than a hum, and Maki chuckles at him. Harua is definitely jetlagged at this point, and the lack of sleep has caught up on him. It was at these times when Maki, forever the cleaner one of the two of them, was used to taking over. It had taken him a while to even let himself let Maki take care of him, at first; now, it’s something he looks forward to, not that he would ever admit it. Maki probably knows, either way. 

“C’mon, we should shower.” 

The idea of showering with Maki is normally appealing, but he just can’t find it in himself to bother. 

He waves Maki off. “I’ll just… do it tomorrow morning,” he mumbles, sleepily grabbing his other skincare products from his toiletry bag. 

Maki’s barely able to resist a small aw at Harua’s sleepy appearance, at his most vulnerable.

“Hey, I’ll even wash your hair for you. You won’t even have to do anything.” 

He turns back to Maki, face wash in his hand.

“Really?” 

“Of course! C’mon, you’ll get mad in the morning if you wake up with your hair all smushed up,” Maki attempts to convince him, eyebrows waggling, and Harua’s beginning to be persuaded. He squints at Maki for a second, weighing up his options. 

“Alright, but quickly.” Maki looks far too happy right now. 

True to his word, Maki diligently massages shampoo through Harua’s hair as he barely manages to keep washing himself. The motions are gentle enough for Harua to start to doze off, even as Maki forces him under the stream of water. Even after that, Maki wrangles Harua into his pyjamas and dries his hair for him, gently running the hot air over the damaged strands. The humming of the hair dryer ends after a while. 

“Done. Go sleep.” 

Harua follows Maki’s command, near robotically padding over to the bed and immediately passing out under the covers while Maki finishes drying his own hair. He’s done soon enough, and though he does eye the other bed, completely unused, he goes over to Harua’s bed instead. He sees Harua’s phone on the bedside table, plugging it in before they can have any problems with a dead phone in the morning, and jumps into bed behind Harua, snuggling in. 

It’s not often Harua wakes up with a warm body beside him; he and Maki don’t share a room, and he’s not always confident about showing affection to Maki in front of the others. Today, however, there’s someone drooling onto his shoulder. It’s less endearing up close. Harua groans, rubbing his eyes, and sits up to check his phone, which is miraculously charging on the table next to them. It’s around eight in the morning, and there’s a text from Euijoo from nine hours ago telling them to be ready by nine. Yeah, that’ll be fine, Harua thinks optimistically, setting a 30 minute timer and snuggling back into Maki’s side. 

When they do finally get up, the rest of the day is spent getting styled before they have to film content for the day. The more Harua sees the city of Frankfurt, the more he’s reminded of Seoul, in some ways; the mix of traditional and modern like turning the street at a modern apartment and coming across a hanok. There’s Christmas lights everywhere, similar to the gaudy displays all around Japanese cities this time of year.

 There’s a bunch of interviews and things they have to do, and Harua’s just glad they haven’t been shipped straight back home and that they actually get to stay for a little while, especially because of how happy Maki looks to be here. Harua knows Maki’s a bundle of energy now, simmering just below the surface of his skin; it takes a hand on his leg to stop him jittering. He’s speaking more English now than he is German; the hosts clearly speak both, and it’s easier for Maki to not have to pause and stumble over every single word while he mentally translates through however many languages he needs to. 

Maki can’t stop grinning when all their schedules are over for the day. The mood is infectious; their car ride to the restaurant they’re going to for dinner is loud as Maki recounts previous times in Germany with his family. With the way he describes things, even Harua feels a sense of nostalgia for places he’s never even visited. He makes a mental note to come back with Maki at some point on a holiday. 

When they’re all out of the cars and onto the footpath out the front of the restaurant, he’s pulled away from the other members by Maki. 

“Huh? Aren’t we going in too?” Harua asks, gesturing to the other members, who smile at him as if they’ve been hiding something… which it now dawns on him that they probably have. 

“These guys are going to stay here, and we,” he gestures to Harua, “are going to go take a train.” 

Harua looks at Maki with increasing confusion by the second. He looks back between him and the other members several times.

“Just go already! Enjoy yourselves, and don’t go missing in a foreign country, please!” K calls out to them. The manager next to K grimaces. 

“Stay in contact,” Euijoo reiterates, smiling at them both.

Harua has no idea where he’s being taken. Every time he attempts to see the directions on Maki’s phone his boyfriend holds the phone up to where he can’t reach it, so he’s given up. 

“It’s good, I promise. We’re going somewhere really cool,” Maki reassures him as the train jolts down the track, passing lights in the tunnel every so often. It takes them only a short time longer to reach their stop, and many others get off with them; Maki squints at a few signs before following the crowd. 

“Shit, it’s cold out here,” Harua says, crossing his arms. It’s colder as they walk out of the station; the temperature must have dropped more since they’d been underground, and Harua’s glad Maki convinced him into bringing a coat earlier in the day. Maki smiles, and only pulls him in closer. 

“Here,” Maki offers, pulling a pair of gloves out of his pocket. When Harua takes them, he realises they’re actually his own, that he hadn’t actually intended to bring to Germany.

He looks up suspiciously at Maki, who just grins sheepishly. Sometimes, Maki knew him better than he knew himself, apparently. 

It’s not long until Harua starts to cotton on to where they might be going. The landscape here is much less modern than the surroundings of their hotel, making Harua feel like he’s trapped between a bunch of fancy, life-sized gingerbread houses. He knows they’re approaching something, because the sound of music and bustling crowds is getting louder as they continue to their destination. They turn a corner, and then suddenly he’s doused in warm light. His mouth drops; he looks at Maki for a second, who’s smiling at him, and back at the scene before him, in awe.

Before him was what looked to be a market, complete with a towering Christmas tree, illuminated with fairy lights that branch across the village-like set-up.. There’s delicious smells wafting all around him and Harua realises it’s maybe been six hours since he last ate. Large stalls line the market, selling what look to be decorations, food and more. 

“Woah,” is about all Harua can manage. 

“Right?” Maki responds gleefully, tugging him along. “C’mon, let’s get something to eat!” 

Maki gets him to try just about everything they can see; there’s sausages, pretzels, a mug of hot wine he finishes much quicker than he intends to (Maki grimaces when he sees it, barely halfway through his own). Harua’s peacefully munching through the pretzel - a food he’s pretty sure he’s never had before - and mainly just zoning out when Maki taps him on the shoulder.

He turns, and there’s a plush bunny keychain in his face, which Maki is waving around in front of him. Harua leans back slightly, twitching, and lets out a small laugh. 

“Aw, cute,” he says, poking its little pink nose. Maki grins at him, tilting his head back toward the stall, filled with a variety of stuffed animals. Harua scans the vast number for a second, and his eyes land upon a similar key chain; a little long-eared dog. 

Maki gives it a single look ; one that Harua knows too well . “Oh, now we have to get them,” he insists. 

Harua opens his mouth to complain, even if he also thinks the idea is pretty cute. 

“C’mon, Harua, it’d be cute!” 

Harua pretends to ponder over the idea for a second, just because he can. “Well, fine…” 

Maki’s smile widens impossibly more, quickly turning to the shopkeeper to buy them. Once he’s done, he immediately turns to Harua, fastening the puppy keychain onto Harua’s bag, before attaching the bunny to his belt loop. 

“Good, right?” he says, posing to Harua. 

Harua feigns nonchalance by continuing to eat through the pretzel as he takes a good look at Maki, proudly wearing Harua’s symbol. There’s definitely something in him that feels… possessive, about it, and he can feel the beginning of a blush rising on his cheeks. He can’t even give Maki a good response, choosing to just keep walking along the path. 

Maki huffs out a laugh at him, bumping shoulders with Harua as he catches up and takes another sip of his glühwein. He looks down to where Harua’s free hand is in his pocket. He might be itching for skinship, but in public - even in a place like this - they don’t really have that luxury. Considering this for a second, he feels around in his own pocket for the hand warmer he’d opened in the car not long before they’d come, takes it out, and jams both it and his own hand into Harua’s pocket.

Harua jolts for a second. “Eh?” he questions, looking down at his suddenly-warm pocket. “Eh? Oh! That’s warm.” The delayed reaction makes Maki laugh as he entwines their fingers, squeezing a short three times before removing his hand from Harua’s pocket altogether. 

“Can’t believe you had kairo on you this whole time,” Harua mumbles, visibly flustered. “You’re so… so…agh,” he trails off, unable to give Maki a proper response. 

Nearly two years, and Maki still manages to overwhelm him like this, every single time. Harua squeezes the heat pack, and tries to imagine it’s still Maki’s warm hand on his. All Maki does is smile down at him.

It’s somehow even darker than before as they make their way through each of the stalls. Above them, the giant Christmas tree illuminates their surroundings, as do the fairy lights lining the paths. Harua’s struck by the fact that this is basically one of the only proper dates they’ve ever had, among the busy schedules and the lack of privacy or anything that might let them act like any other normal couple. He looks back up at Maki, eyes softening. He had gone to all this effort, organising this at the end of an exhausting two days of schedules before an early flight tomorrow. It wasn’t like they could very easily go to something like this in Japan; he knew they existed, but as celebrities… it just wasn’t really an option. 

“Hey, look,” Harua says, stopping at a ride while Maki finishes the dregs of his drink. The previous riders are just getting off, but it looks to be some kind of spinning ride. Harua hasn’t really been to anything like this in a few years, so he doesn’t recall ever going on a ride like this. 

Maki squints at the ride. “Looks kinda fun. Wanna have a go?” 

Harua nods. He of course doesn’t understand any of the following instructions in German, but Maki’s perfectly intent to tell him everything he needs to know as they’re led onto the ride and into one of the long seats. He makes eye contact with Maki, smiling briefly, before the ride jolts into action. 

They both brace themselves against the metal seat as the ride slowly gains speed; soon enough, Harua looks up at Maki in amused panic as he’s unable to stop himself from inching closer and closer to Maki as the centrifugal force of the ride pushes him to the outer side of the seat. 

“Ah, wait, shit–” Harua says as he’s forced into Maki’s side, looking up at him. Maki’s wide-eyed, too, as he braces the both of them with a hand reaching to grab Harua’s waist and pull him closer. 

Maki screeches right into his ear as the ride reaches its fastest speed, causing Harua to laugh even as he’s physically unable to move away from the noise. 

They’re both laughing their heads off as the ride ends, stumbling out of their seats and back into the market. 

“Why did you have to scream into my ear? I couldn’t move away!” 

“Ah, I’m–” Maki pauses, still both laughing and trying to catch his breath simultaneously, “I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t mean to. Here, come here, I’ll kiss it better–” he says, making a kissy face in Harua’s direction. 

“Are you drunk?” Harua asks incredulously, dodging while he catches his own breath. 

Maki pauses for a second. He turns his head, squinting for a second.

“Huh. I guess so,” he says, another goofy smile on his face. He still doesn’t drink that much back home; he can in Korea, but he’s still not able to in Japan until the end of the year. “It’s fine! I’m legal here.” Maki reassures him, waving him off as he looks around. That’s great, but it’s not the law he’s worried about; it’s their leaders who might end up giving Harua as the older one the I’m not mad, just disappointed speech about public behaviour. 

Harua just laughs, maybe also more than a little tipsy at this point. That wine was stronger than it looked. 

Maki looks at him for a second, gaze intense enough for Harua to notice before he groans, slapping his cheeks, already red from both the wine and the cold. 

“What on earth are you doing?” Harua questions his sudden outburst. 

“Nothing, nothing– I just guess I really am tipsy right now, because I almost couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you,” Maki says blatantly. 

Harua blinks, reddening. Maki always just said stuff like that, ever-so casually. He looks away, but Maki can see his slight smile. “You can’t just… say stuff like that,” He weakly pushes at Maki’s arm. “At least wait till we’re back in our room.”

Maki raises a brow, moving closer into Harua’s personal space and staring straight down at him with a smirk. “Yeah? Is that a promise?” 

“ Stop ,” Harua whines. On a good day, he could easily resist Maki’s teasing these days; like this, when he’s feeling emotionally vulnerable and also a little drunk, Maki could squeeze between the gaps of his walls. 

Maki mercifully stops teasing him, instead tilting his head in the direction of another row of stalls. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go get some ornaments to bring back home.” 

The ornaments that line each of the different stalls in the little lane are all colourful; glass, wood and even gingerbread, which Harua can’t say he’s ever seen before. They purchase just a couple of the glass ones, as Harua isn’t game enough to bring any more of the fragile decorations home on the long haul flight home with them. 

The gingerbread ornaments are even more interesting. Large heart-shaped cookies, decorated with extravagantly piped icing and words Harua can’t read. Maki insists on Harua posing with two different ornaments that he says mean something like, I love you, mum , and I love you, dad , respectively. Maki sends it to their group chat, laughing as he translates the ornaments for all the other members. 

Maki: Photo

Maki: @fuma @ej 

Yuma: what is this lol

K: THAT’S SO CUTE

Fuma: I love you too, son!

Jo: Cute

Taki: harua’s so red haha

Nicholas: i showed juju and he won’t admit he likes it but he’s smiling i promise you

Harua looks up from the group chat, laughing at their members’ regular antics. Maki’s holding up another one, examining it. He shows it to Harua. Ich liebe dich is written on it in elaborate handwriting. 

“What’s that mean?” Harua questions.

“I love you,” Maki translates without missing a beat. 

Harua is speechless as Maki turns away, having a brief conversation with the shopkeeper and buying the decoration. It was so easy for Maki to just come out and say stuff like that, without even needing to deliberate over anything. Unlike Harua, he really did wear his heart on his sleeve; Maki couldn’t hide anything from him.

Maki hands him the decoration without a second thought. 

“Thank you,” Harua manages slowly, still unable to collect his thoughts. 

They continue to walk through the alley at a snail’s pace, occasionally looking at different stalls as they slowly make their way through. There may or may not be a second mug of mulled wine they’re sharing between the two of them.

Harua lets out a breath, loud enough for Maki to look over at him. He makes eye contact with Maki. “I love you too, you know.” 

Maki beams down at him. “Of course I know,” he says, bumping shoulders with Harua, looking extremely pleased. 

Before they know it, it’s already late at night and Harua’s legs ache from spending two whole days standing. They take the train back to the hotel, letting the other members know they’ve returned. As soon as Harua’s tapped their keycard to the door, Maki’s racing past him and smushing his face into the bed. 

“Ew, at least wash up first,” Harua nags as he puts down his bag and takes off his coat, folding it back into his luggage, and then steps out of his shoes.

“Ugh,” Maki says. “I get how you felt yesterday. I can’t even get up now.” He burrows himself further onto the bed, kicking his shoes off. 

Before Harua can even think, his mouth opens. “What happened to desperately wanting to kiss me?” 

Maki pauses, slowly turning back over. His face is one of curiosity, like he never expected Harua to be the one to broach the subject again. But with a belly full of wine and some new-found confidence, Harua can’t resist poking the bear a little. 

“I’m listening,” Maki drawls. His gaze is the slightest bit predatory, but it’s nothing like what he might do on stage; this is raw emotion, desire bare for Harua to see on his face as Maki quirks an anticipatory brow. 

“Come join me in the shower, and maybe you might get to.” Harua’s ears feel red as he attempts to entice his boyfriend. The words he’s saying feel slightly foreign in his own mouth, filling his whole body with an overwhelming sensation of want. 

Maki laughs a little, but the smirk on his face displays his hunger clearly. “Oh, bribery, nice.”  He jumps off the bed and shucks off his outer coat all while still maintaining eye contact with Maki, feeling dangerously close to a predator teasing its prey.

“Is it working?” Harua asks, barely able to maintain his air of confidence as Maki approaches him. His throat drying out, he can’t help but swallow; his body breaks out in a pleasant shiver when he sees Maki following the movement with his eyes.

“Hm,” Maki says, crowding into Harua’s personal space as they both step into the bathroom. “I guess it is.” 

He kicks the door shut behind him. 

Harua wakes up to a sharp knocking at the door, and a pounding headache. He groans, turning back to Maki, accidentally hitting him. Maki’s face scrunches up, also on the verge of waking up. 

The knocking continues, and he can hear notifications buzzing both of their phones on the bedside table. 

Harua begrudgingly gets out of bed, fully aware of how he’s opening the door in his fluffy pyjamas. His mouth is dry, and he can barely swallow. Thankfully, when he opens the door it’s not a manager; it’s Jo, who is probably the most forgiving out of anyone who could have come to visit them. 

“Oh,” Jo says, taking in Harua’s state. His hair’s all over the place, and he definitely has one less button done up than he had the night before. “We’re going to the airport in just over an hour. Thought you two might need the extra warning.” 

Harua nods tiredly, wiping his hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself up more.

“Thanks,” he says, weakly, while he scratches at an itch on his neck.

Jo pauses for a second. Perhaps inadvertently, he glances down at where Harua’s scratching, blinking, and he looks a little flustered, like how he used to ages ago, still not used to the teasing from the members. 

“And… I guess K-hyung was right in saying you both might want some of this,” he says abruptly, handing Harua two cold Pocari Sweats. 

Harua’s not even going to comment on K-hyung apparently gossiping about the two of them. Harua grabs the two immediately, opening one bottle and immediately chugging some. He moans. It doesn’t get rid of the headache, but it definitely helps with the dehydration. 

“Thanks, Jo-kun.” He says appreciatively. Jo smiles down at him before he rapidly returns down the hallway to his own room. 

Harua closes the door and pads back over to the bed, putting the other on the bedside table. He keeps sipping as he runs a hand through Maki’s hair, trying to wake his boyfriend up properly. 

Maki groans, scratching his head and squinting as he opens to the now light room. 

“ Fuck ,” he exclaims in English. 

“I know,” Harua laughs out in spite of the throbbing pain. “Here, have a drink.” He offers the other bottle up to Maki, who sits up and  chugs half of it within seconds. He breathes out heavily when he’s done.

“When,” he breathes out, “are we leaving?” He asks, recapping the lid of the bottle. 

“Around an hour. We should pack before the rest of them come to pester us; we were lucky just to get Jo this time.”

Maki lets out a breathy laugh. In spite of morning breath, Harua leans down to kiss him, intending to bask in the moment just for a second but instead being pulled back onto the bed, letting out a quiet noise as Maki rests him on his lap. It’s not unpleasant; Maki’s like a furnace in the cold room.  

“You can pack quickly, can’t you?” Maki asks, pecking him on the lips once more. Harua distinctly notices Maki’s gaze change once more as he looks down to Harua’s collarbone, running a thumb along the bone and exposing more of his skin. 

“When I’m like this?” Harua breathes out, unable to stop himself from moving into the warmth of Maki’s touch. “I, ah–can’t make any promises.” 

“Mhm,” Maki mumbles into his skin, voice still deep with grogginess. “Thankfully this is still low enough to hide.” 

“Hm?” Harua’s in a fog, barely lucid enough to process what Maki says, but– “Wait, what?” 

“Hickey,” Maki replies, kissing the darkened spot as Harua looks down at him, attempting to crane his neck to see the little mark. 

“Shit,” Harua says, hand flying to the bruised skin immediately. “No wonder Jo was giving me a weird look earlier.” 

“Ha, well. At least it was just him, and not like, Fuma or Euijoo.” 

Harua lets out a half-groan-half-laugh, planting his head onto Maki’s shoulder at the thought of it. 

“I’m twenty, and mama and papa still treat me like a kid.” He says, semi-begrudgingly. Maki knows he likes the treatment, and won’t ever really admit it beyond fanservice purposes. 

“They’ve known you since you were one, to be fair. Me, too.” Maki reasons. 

Harua agrees with that. Within the past four or so years, they really had gone from kids to fully-fledged idols. He looks back up at Maki’s face; that’s changed too. No longer does he have the pudgy cheeks or innocent, puppy-like look he had when Harua met him, or even up until they debuted; Harua runs his thumb along Maki’s sharp jaw, his high cheekbones, the stubble barely growing on his chin; Maki simply watches and indulges him in his ministrations, a hand coming up to brush some of Harua's mussed hair back down. 

Harua’s filled with a sense of warmth as he gently connects their lips again. Maki drags his other hand up under Harua’s pyjama top, settling at his hip, and Harua arches into the touch again, gasping into Maki’s mouth. 

Both of their phones buzz near simultaneously. 

“Ignore it,” Maki breathes out. “We’ve got time.” 

“Riki,” Harua laughs, breathing heavily as Maki mouths at his jawline, trailing down to his neck, and to the hickey on his collarbone. He can’t help but shiver at the memory of its creation. 

Another buzz.

Harua’s hand comes to the next button down on his top, flicking it between his thumb and forefinger in an attempt to undo it as he makes eye contact with Maki again, and immediately senses the near-carnivorous greed emanating from his boyfriend. 

More buzzing. 

Maki lets go of Harua with a groan, and Harua falls back next to him on the bed, picking up his phone that continues to buzz with notifications.  

“Ugh, that’s giving me more of a headache than the hangover.” Maki grumbles, leaning onto Harua’s shoulder in order to see his phone. Harua leans back onto him, yawning as he opens the notification; It’s the regular group chat, spamming them with messages telling them to get ready. 

“Damn,” Maki quips, taking another sip from his bottle. “Guess that’s it with that, then.” He gets up, and starts to fold up any stray clothes. Harua sighs, and gets up to do the same. As he does, he comes across the bag he’d been carrying around yesterday. The little puppy is still safely fastened onto it; he hopes the bunny is, too, wherever those jeans were haphazardly thrown yesterday. And inside the bag, the ornament is still safe. He takes it out and admires it once more, fingers running over the piped lettering. 

“You really do like that decoration, huh, Harua?” 

Harua briefly glances over at Maki, who’s smiling at him as he zips up a bag in his luggage, and looks back at the gingerbread ornament. 

“Yeah,” Harua responds, kneeling down to wrap it up safely into his luggage. “I do.” 

It’s totally worth the long haul flights, the effort of the past two days, the hangover and the teasing they get from the other members when Harua hangs it in the middle of their Christmas tree at the dorm in Japan, far bigger than all the others.