Chapter Text
How much more could he take? Makoto wonders, (not for the first time) waiting outside. He jiggles the door and pops it open. He shakes his head and walks inside, calling out softly.
“Haru? Haru, are you still in the bath?”
He automatically goes to the bathroom and knocks on the door before opening it, more out of habit than courtesy.
“Did you forget again? We’re meeting the team to go over next year’s recruitment plan.” He holds out his hand, also out of habit. Haru grabs it and pulls himself out of the tub.
How many times has he experienced this same perfect moment? How many times has he held out his hand? How many times had Haru grabbed on? How many times had Makoto longed to pull him in tighter, and never let go?
He drops his hand and smiles. “I’ll wait outside, ok?”
Haru shrugs and grabs his towel, walking towards his room.
Makoto leans against the wall and closes his eyes, counting his breath. In for four. Hold for four. Out for eight. He touched his chest and felt his heart slow with his breathing. He’d been doing this for years now, just...trying to slow down. He felt the years passing like sand through his fingers and he would have given anything to hold on tighter and cling. As long as he could be at Haru’s side, that was enough for now.
It would have to be enough to last a lifetime.
A hand lightly touched the back of his own, sending jolts up his spine. Makoto opens his eyes, and Haru raises an eyebrow.
“Just a little tired.” Makoto lied cheerfully. “Ready to go?”
They walk in a comfortable silence, Makoto matching his steps to Haru’s with the ease and familiarity of years of practice. He could tell that Haru was thinking about something, probably about the future, maybe just about food. He was staring out at the sea like he always did, and like always Makoto watched him. He’d long since memorized the look on Haru’s face, but he couldn’t help but stare every single time.
There was no way to describe the light in his eyes, the wind stirring his hair, the arch of his neck and the set to his mouth, the shape of his jaw, the smoothness of his skin. Makoto wanted to reach out and stroke his hair, caress his cheek, cup his face in his hands and-
“I think this is the place, right?” He says instead, pointing to a sign. It’s a new restaurant, owned by one of Gou’s friend’s cousin’s. She swears by the fish.
Haru glances at the sign and nods. Makoto opens the door to find their friends already at a booth. Haru slides in first, Makoto sits next to him. Rei pulls out a diagram on paper, and Nagisa laughs. It’s easy, and Makoto smiles, pushing away the thoughts that tell him this is the last time they’ll be like this.
He’s had those thoughts for years, and so far, they’d been wrong. He just had to take it one moment at a time. Makoto sighed, then realized Haru was looking at him. He smiled and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
“Sorry, just zoning out. Rei’s got a good point, I think if you focus your attention on the first years, you’ll have a better chance at building the team up into something that can sustain itself…”
Dinner was productive and tasty. The fish was good, and they waved their good-byes long after the sun had set. Walking home, it was so cold he could see his breath. Haru was still quiet beside him, not quite unusual, but something seemed...off. He shivered, and Makoto checked an imaginary box in his mind.
“Ah, you’re cold.”
Haru looks at him and sighs. “It’s cold.”
“We’re almost back, here.” He hands over his jacket.
Haru knows better than to resist. He takes the jacket and nearly burrows inside. Makoto’s not that much bigger than him, but he always swims in his clothes because his shoulders are so broad. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as Makoto waits beside him.
He watches Haru put on his jacket, wanting to reach out and pull him into his arms, hold him tightly and warm him up far better than the jacket could. He’d run his hands over Haru’s arms and his back before reaching up to touch Haru’s cold lips as he leans down and-
Haru nods. “I didn’t expect to be out this late.”
Makoto rubs his own arms and laughs. “Yeah, we were there for a few hours. I’m surprised Gou’s friend’s cousin let us stay that long.”
Haru’s looking at him, really looking, and no matter how many years pass Makoto’s heart still speeds up when he looks right into Haru’s eyes. He smiles.
Haru raises an eyebrow, and Makoto knows he’s asking if he’s okay. He nods, and yawns for good measure. “I’m just tired.”
Haru stares at him for half a beat too long, and Makoto longs to step closer, grab his hand, lean down and press his forehead to Haru’s so their breath mingles together in the cold. He imagines a blush on Haru’s face, how good the red would look contrasted against his pale skin. He wants this moment to last forever, wants to hold on to the look on Haru’s face and the feeling in his chest.
Makoto looks away first, stretching his arms up over his head. “You ready?”
Haru frowns for a fraction of a second before nodding, and Makoto wonders what he’s thinking. They resume their walk, slower than before. Makoto doesn’t mind, wonders how long he could drag this walk out, even though he knows he’ll likely see Haru again tomorrow.
But there’s something magic about cold air and stars as they walk through the darkness, and there’s something so perfect about Haru in his jacket, and there’s something in the air and in the moment that Makoto doesn’t want to end. His heart is pounding in his chest and warmth is pooling in his stomach and he’s glad he gave Haru his jacket because he feels warm, too warm, and he knows his face is red and he’s thankful for the darkness once again.
He can hide it most of the time, but there are these moments that he thinks he’s going to burst with longing and desire, moments he can barely hang on and remember that this is what they have and what they have is good enough and he’s grateful and frustrated and elated and miserable all at the same time and he can’t stand to be next to him and he can’t stand to be away from him and he’s feeling too much and he just wants to grab him and shake him and scream at him and kis-
“Makoto.” Haru’s voice snaps him out of it and he shakes his head with a start. They’re back, and he doesn’t remember the last part of their walk at all. He wills his heart to slow and he relaxes his body. He didn’t realize he’d tensed up.
“Well, goodnight, Haru!” He says, as normally as he can manage. He’s not worried, Haru hasn’t noticed before and he knows he won’t notice now. He turns to leave, knows he needs to get home and be alone. It’s been too much, today, and he’s worried that if he stays any longer he’ll ruin it all. Haru’s hand grabs his wrist.
Everything slows down and Makoto’s heart drops for a second before he can force it to be still. A little longer. Just a little longer. He turns back around, and Haru is standing there, staring at him, his piercing gaze slicing into Makoto’s soul. Makoto stares back, his heart roaring in his ears.
There’s a perfect moment of silence.
Makoto breaths.
Haru drops his hand and points to Makoto’s jacket. “I can wash this for you.” He says quietly, his eyes still locked on Makoto’s.
“Don’t worry about it!” He forces his voice to be normal and he hopes he’s successful. It’s hard enough to breathe, let alone talk. He reaches out for the jacket, but Haru makes no move to take it off. Makoto sighs.
“Just...keep it, ok? It was getting too tight in the shoulders.” A little bit of a lie, but right now Makoto just wants to get out of there before he does something stupid, before he grabs the jacket at the collar and pulls Haru forward and-
Haru frowns. “Are you sure?”
I want to kiss that frown off of your face.
“Yeah, I was going to get rid of it next season anyway. Who knows, you might grow into it.” He says, trying desperately to lighten the tension he feels.
I want to rip that jacket off of you.
Haru blinks, and laughs, caught off guard. He pulls at the sleeves, they cover his hands. “I don’t know about that.”
I want to stay with you tonight, and every night.
Makoto finds himself laughing, a little too hard, maybe, but it feels good.
“You should get inside before you catch a cold.” He says, rubbing his own arms.
Haru stares at him again for just a moment too long, and Makoto suddenly wonders what it is he’s looking for.
“....goodnight, Makoto.” Haru says slowly, dropping his gaze to the ground. Makoto nearly sags with relief.
“Night, Haru.” He turns and heads up the steps to his own home. He forces himself to walk normally, or what he thinks is normally, until he gets inside. Then he takes the stairs to his room three at a time before shutting his door with as much urgency as he can while being quiet.
He flops onto his bed, sticks his face in a pillow, and quietly screams.
~
Haru burrowed deeper into Makoto’s jacket, breathing in the familiar smell. He feels a little guilty, he knows Makoto likes this jacket and that it’s not too small for him yet, but the guilt is overpowered by the comfort and security he gets from wearing it. Besides, he’ll wash it and give it back anyway, just like he’s done so many times before.
It was funny, tonight he thought he almost saw something in Makoto’s eyes, like for a second he could see his own feelings reflected in their depths. But he had been wrong. Haru had always known how he felt about Makoto, and he’d always been sure that Makoto would never feel the same way.
Nights like tonight made him wonder.
Maybe someday he’d grab Makoto’s hand and not let go. Maybe someday he’d stop leaving his jacket at home so Makoto would give him his. Maybe someday he wouldn’t need to, because he’d fall asleep next to Makoto instead of in his clothes. Or maybe both.
He’d had a good feeling about tonight.
He had a better one about tomorrow.
Haru closed his eyes, pulling Makoto’s jacket closer. This was enough for now.
....wasn't it?
~
His phone buzzed on his desk. Makoto pushed himself up off the bed and answered without opening his eyes. "Hello?"
The world stopped for a moment.
"....do you want to come over?"