(no subject)
Helostoma Temminckii
Fandom: Tsuritama
Characters/Pairing: Yuki/Haru
Rating: T
Wordcount: 2,580
Summary: That was how Yuki ended up still and blinking in the kitchen, Haru a few inches away and looking like he was expecting feedback.
Also available at the AO3!
It should have been some cliché, that Haru saw people kissing on television and didn’t understand what it meant and tried it out with awkward but adorable consequences, but it turned out Haru actually did understand what it meant, and that was how Yuki ended up still and blinking in the kitchen, Haru a few inches away and looking like he was expecting feedback.
“Was that okay?” Haru asked, eyes wide and guileless. “Did you like it?”
Yuki had to take a moment to put his thoughts in order. It wasn’t--it wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t what he’d vaguely imagined a first kiss would be like. There should have been some long lean-in, eyes gazing at each other, possibly some dramatic swell of music in the background. Instead there was a half-dry plate and a cloth in his hands, and some inane conversation about the day, and then a quick peck and that was all. There was nothing dramatic about it. It was practically homey.
Which was another point of thought, really; it didn’t feel strange or disturbing or anything bad at all. A little scary, maybe, now that it was setting in, but not in a bad way. And to be honest, Yuki’s more realistic vision of his first kiss involved a lot more apologizing and running away, so it was already working out much better than anticipated.
The fact that a not-awful first kiss was happening with Haru, though, that was--
--that was okay, actually. Yuki couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but it was.
“Yeah,” Yuki said. “I did.”
Haru’s face lit up. “Oh, good!” he said. “I did too. Let’s do it again!”
The second kiss was longer, but not more complicated; just slightly cold lips against his and the faint smell of saltwater. Haru was always a little cold, even in the oppressive summer heat, and being surrounded by blooming flowers did nothing to hide the ever-present smell of the sea. Yuki was used to it. Not this close, though. He supposed he would have to get used to that, too.
Yuki pulled away this time, mumbling, “We should finish the dishes.”
“Okay!” Haru said, and went back to scrubbing a plate. Haru did better at washing dishes than drying them, even if he did sometimes play with the suds.
In the background, Keito pointedly turned on the TV.
---
After that, Haru seemed to lose all concept of Yuki’s personal space. Now that he had permission to touch, he wanted to do it as often as possible; he always had an arm around Yuki’s waist, or his face buried in Yuki’s hair, or just held onto Yuki’s hand. It didn’t seem to have any ulterior motive--Haru just wanted to be near him. Maybe it was partly a response to being separated from him for six months. Certainly Haru was very vocal about why he’d returned.
“Well, Urara’s on probation--a lot of my people don’t like him, I don’t get why, everyone gets bored sometimes!--and when they said he had to prove he was back to normal before he could go back home, of course I volunteered to bring him to Enoshima! I learned so much while I was here, Enoshima is great for learning how to be nice! Natsuki got nicer and Akira got a lot nicer, didn’t they?”
Then Haru had nudged him and grinned hugely. “But I think I mostly learned from you, Yuki! So you’re the best person to be around Urara! I wish the others were here, but you’re the best out of anybody, and that’s all I need.”
Then Haru had nuzzled his neck and Yuki hadn’t felt like continuing the conversation.
School had always been awkward--before Haru, even the slightest attempt at being social ended with him either mumbling and looking away or panicking and running out of the classroom (once, he’d dived out a nearby open window, which was about as effective as it was painful); after Haru arrived, it became an exercise in maintaining sanity. Sometimes Yuki had wondered if he’d managed to reach hell without being dead.
After a while, though, Yuki had acclimated to it, and he’d realized that in a strange way his life had never been better. Because of Haru, he had friends, he had something to do, he had something he might be good at. and it more than made up for having to try to convince Haru to pay attention to the teacher instead of him.
But Haru had left. And Akira had left. And Natsuki had left. And Yuki had been alone in the classroom again.
But Haru had come back.
And with him brought an entirely new level of awkward.
“Haru-kun, that is not appropriate behavior for the classroom,” the teacher droned, as Yuki tried to sink into the floor.
Haru looked over from where he’d been petting Yuki’s hair. “Ehhh? But I’m not doing anything!”
“Yes you are please stop,” Yuki hissed. Haru looked deeply hurt.
“Okayyy,” Haru said sadly. He removed his hands and turned back to the front of the classroom. Yuki took several minutes to raise himself back up.
Once class was over, Yuki grabbed Haru’s shoulder. Haru turned around with a brilliant grin. “You can’t do that at school, okay?” Yuki said. “No kissing, no hand-holding, nothing.”
Haru looked like Yuki had told him Christmas was canceled. “But I thought you liked it!” he said.
Yuki tried very hard to not turn red. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded. “I do, just--at home? Not here? And not at the Hemingway? Or anywhere that isn’t home?”
Haru’s eyebrows wrinkled. “I don’t get it,” he said.
“It’s like--you wouldn’t fish in a place where there aren’t any fish, right?”
“Right!”
“Well, thinking of me liking it as a fish. School is a place that doesn’t have fish. So you can’t fish here. You have to wait until you can go somewhere else.”
Haru seemed to think about it for a moment. “Okay,” he said.
Yuki let out a sigh of relief. Usually similes and metaphors were lost on Haru, but fishing seemed to be a universal tactic.
“I’ll just fish you at home, then!”
The window was looking mighty tempting.
---
By mutual and immediate agreement, Urara slept in the fish bowl. He ventured outside for school and fishing, but had to be convinced he needed to be human-shaped to do homework, which wasn’t nearly as much of a nightmare as Yuki had expected--Haru had taken weeks to understand that no, really, grades were important, if he was going to be at school he had to stay in school. Urara was much more quiet about it.
Urara was much more quiet about a lot of things, for which Yuki was profoundly grateful. When a study session inevitably devolved into Haru flopping onto Yuki’s lap and declaring that calculus was haaaard, Yuki, he didn’t need it, on his planet math just sort of happened and nobody needed to write it down, Urara politely excused himself into another room and Yuki was all the more relieved for it.
“Humans have to learn how to do math, it takes practice,” Yuki said, stroking Haru’s hair. Extricating Haru at home had proved an increasingly fruitless task, so eventually he’d just learned to roll with it.
“Humans always have to think about stuff,” Haru grumbled. “When we want to do something we just do. Like the spaceships. And why we can look like you.”
“Why can you look like us?” Yuki asked. He’d always wondered, but it seemed rude to ask without prompting.
Haru looked up at Yuki. “If you came to my planet I could show you,” he said, with no trace of joking in his eyes.
Yuki rested his hand on Haru’s hair. “I can’t do that,” he said quietly. “I have to stay here. Even once I finish school, I can’t leave Grandma behind.”
“I know,” Haru mumbled. “It’s just that there’s so much I could show you--how we do things, what everyone looks like…it’s so pretty there, Yuki, and everyone would like you, I know they would.”
Yuki was silent for a while. “Maybe someday,” he said eventually. He didn’t say--when I don’t need to worry about leaving Grandma behind--but he didn’t think he needed to.
Haru pressed his face against Yuki’s stomach and made a vague noise.
“Come on, you need to at least try to write it down,” Yuki said, moving his hand to push Haru off. “If the teacher makes you stay after school again you won’t get to go fishing.”
Haru made a half-hearted protest before sliding off and sitting back up. After a minute, Urara came back into the room and joined them.
They actually managed to finish the assignment that time. Yuki cherished the small victories.
---
Haru had taken to the concept of necking on the couch like--well--a fish to water. Yuki could barely watch TV anymore; once they were on the couch, it was immediately kissing time, regardless of whether or not Yuki had already picked up the remote. He didn’t mind, per se, but he kind of missed seeing the news.
One day, they were sitting together, Haru’s arms around Yuki’s shoulders and Yuki’s arms around Haru’s hips, when Haru suddenly pulled back and pushed Yuki down onto the couch. Yuki was startled for a moment, but then Haru fell back on top of him and said, brightly, “The angle’s better this way,” and went right back to the kissing.
Haru hadn’t really taken to kissing with tongues--he’d made a face and said it was slimy, which Yuki kind of agreed with--but he loved kissing Yuki all over the face, forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, the corner of his mouth. He’d tried nibbling, once, but declared it weird.
Yuki didn’t know what this was. Haru didn’t come with an instruction book. Even if he were entirely human, Haru was kind of…Yuki didn’t know. Maybe Haru didn’t know either.
Haru hmmd against Yuki’s neck. He shifted his legs a little, probably just to get comfortable, but--
no no no Yuki hadn’t wanted this to come up he literally could not imagine anything more awkward and did Haru even know, he knew about kissing but did he--Yuki tried very hard to not pay attention to the friction and the warmth and the slight pressure of Haru’s legs between his but--
--seventeen, okay, some things couldn’t be helped--
Haru was looking at him with those same guileless eyes he’d had when he’d first kissed him and Yuki didn’t know what to do.
“I’ll just,” Yuki mumbled, “um--”
“I can help you with that,” Haru said.
Haru’s face hadn’t changed. But Yuki thought--
--he thought. He looked back at it all. Haru had only ever seemed interested in kissing. Even tongues were weird to him. He was a fish. And, most tellingly, Haru didn’t seem to be having any difficulties of his own right now.
“…I don’t think you want to,” Yuki said slowly. “Um. I mean--I don’t think you like that sort of thing, so I’ll just go…take a shower or something. I don’t want to bother you with this. Seriously, I don’t.”
Haru looked profoundly relieved. He buried his head in Yuki’s chest and mumbled, “You’re the best, Yuki,” and something in Yuki tightened, but not in a bad way.
Haru pulled back and perched on the edge of the couch. Yuki managed to get up with no further incident. It was awkward, walking to the bathroom, but he could deal with this, there was already so much weirdness in his life that this wasn’t even a blip. The embarrassing thought bubbled up inside him that Haru was worth it, anyway.
Grandma was going to figure it out, if she hadn’t already. But she’d understand--if anything, she’d probably be happy about not having to pretend she didn’t hear anything. Urara…well, Urara wouldn’t be surprised at all, would he.
Yuki had no intention whatsoever of letting anyone else find out, though.
---
The next day, Yuki cornered Urara after dinner. Haru was talking with Grandma about--something, Yuki wasn’t sure, but whatever it was had Haru in rapt attention. So Yuki, probably.
“Hey,” Yuki said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “How well do you know Haru?”
Urara blinked. “…I knew him a long time ago,” he said, eventually. “I didn’t remember him very well. These days he seems very…happy?”
In the background, Haru broke into a fit of giggles at something Grandma had said.
“Yeah,” Yuki said. To him, Haru had been happy from the start, or had seemed like it. “I meant--back on your planet, do you know if he ever had a boyfriend, girlfriend…? Do your people have that sort of thing?”
Urara took a moment to answer. He did that a lot; Yuki thought he might still be getting used to actually talking to people. “We have something like that,” he said. “I never saw Haru with one. But I didn’t know him very well.”
“So…” Yuki floundered; sometimes he wasn’t much better than Urara. “With humans, though…? I mean--me and Haru--is it weird?”
Urara shrugged. “Is it weird for your people?”
“Yeah,” Yuki said, clenching his fingers tight around the edge of the counter. “But him even being here is weird, so…I just wondered if you had a different perspective.”
“Are you happy?” Urara asked.
“I--yeah,” Yuki said. “I am.” He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been happier. And all of it was because of Haru.
“And he’s happy,” Urara said, tilting his head towards Haru. “So I think they’d be happy too.”
Yuki hadn’t learned very much from the conversation, but he felt a great sense of relief anyway. “Thanks,” he said. He stepped away from the counter.
Suddenly, Yuki felt the hard whump of Haru leaping onto him from behind. “Hey, hey, are you talking about me? That’s not faiiiiir,” he heard coming from somewhere on top of his head.
“You were talking about me,” Yuki said. Or he thought they were, at least.
“That’s different,” Haru muttered into Yuki’s hair. “I always talk about you.”
“We weren’t saying anything you didn’t know,” Urara said. He inclined his head slightly. “Goodnight,” he said, and left the kitchen.
Haru slid down Yuki’s back and butted his head against Yuki’s shoulderblades. “Are you going to bed now?” he said, his voice muffled.
“I’ve got homework, you know that. And you do too.” Urara had finished his in class. No one could say he couldn’t dedicate himself to something.
“Nn,” Haru said indistinctly. He slid around to Yuki’s front and looked up at him. “Now?”
Yuki looked back at him. Haru was happy. He was happy. Grandma seemed to think it was sweet. Urara had expressed vague approval.
He didn’t know exactly how Natsuki and Akira would react. Natsuki probably wouldn’t be surprised. Akira would probably be scandalized for about thirty seconds before grudgingly wishing them happiness.
Haru was blissfully happy. And when it came down to it, that was all that mattered.
Yuki leaned down and kissed Haru on the mouth. Haru looked surprised for a moment before grinning widely and pushing up to kiss as much of Yuki’s face as possible. Yuki couldn’t help giggling.
He still wasn’t great at talking. But this, whatever this was--he thought he was okay at it.
Fandom: Tsuritama
Characters/Pairing: Yuki/Haru
Rating: T
Wordcount: 2,580
Summary: That was how Yuki ended up still and blinking in the kitchen, Haru a few inches away and looking like he was expecting feedback.
Also available at the AO3!
It should have been some cliché, that Haru saw people kissing on television and didn’t understand what it meant and tried it out with awkward but adorable consequences, but it turned out Haru actually did understand what it meant, and that was how Yuki ended up still and blinking in the kitchen, Haru a few inches away and looking like he was expecting feedback.
“Was that okay?” Haru asked, eyes wide and guileless. “Did you like it?”
Yuki had to take a moment to put his thoughts in order. It wasn’t--it wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t what he’d vaguely imagined a first kiss would be like. There should have been some long lean-in, eyes gazing at each other, possibly some dramatic swell of music in the background. Instead there was a half-dry plate and a cloth in his hands, and some inane conversation about the day, and then a quick peck and that was all. There was nothing dramatic about it. It was practically homey.
Which was another point of thought, really; it didn’t feel strange or disturbing or anything bad at all. A little scary, maybe, now that it was setting in, but not in a bad way. And to be honest, Yuki’s more realistic vision of his first kiss involved a lot more apologizing and running away, so it was already working out much better than anticipated.
The fact that a not-awful first kiss was happening with Haru, though, that was--
--that was okay, actually. Yuki couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but it was.
“Yeah,” Yuki said. “I did.”
Haru’s face lit up. “Oh, good!” he said. “I did too. Let’s do it again!”
The second kiss was longer, but not more complicated; just slightly cold lips against his and the faint smell of saltwater. Haru was always a little cold, even in the oppressive summer heat, and being surrounded by blooming flowers did nothing to hide the ever-present smell of the sea. Yuki was used to it. Not this close, though. He supposed he would have to get used to that, too.
Yuki pulled away this time, mumbling, “We should finish the dishes.”
“Okay!” Haru said, and went back to scrubbing a plate. Haru did better at washing dishes than drying them, even if he did sometimes play with the suds.
In the background, Keito pointedly turned on the TV.
---
After that, Haru seemed to lose all concept of Yuki’s personal space. Now that he had permission to touch, he wanted to do it as often as possible; he always had an arm around Yuki’s waist, or his face buried in Yuki’s hair, or just held onto Yuki’s hand. It didn’t seem to have any ulterior motive--Haru just wanted to be near him. Maybe it was partly a response to being separated from him for six months. Certainly Haru was very vocal about why he’d returned.
“Well, Urara’s on probation--a lot of my people don’t like him, I don’t get why, everyone gets bored sometimes!--and when they said he had to prove he was back to normal before he could go back home, of course I volunteered to bring him to Enoshima! I learned so much while I was here, Enoshima is great for learning how to be nice! Natsuki got nicer and Akira got a lot nicer, didn’t they?”
Then Haru had nudged him and grinned hugely. “But I think I mostly learned from you, Yuki! So you’re the best person to be around Urara! I wish the others were here, but you’re the best out of anybody, and that’s all I need.”
Then Haru had nuzzled his neck and Yuki hadn’t felt like continuing the conversation.
School had always been awkward--before Haru, even the slightest attempt at being social ended with him either mumbling and looking away or panicking and running out of the classroom (once, he’d dived out a nearby open window, which was about as effective as it was painful); after Haru arrived, it became an exercise in maintaining sanity. Sometimes Yuki had wondered if he’d managed to reach hell without being dead.
After a while, though, Yuki had acclimated to it, and he’d realized that in a strange way his life had never been better. Because of Haru, he had friends, he had something to do, he had something he might be good at. and it more than made up for having to try to convince Haru to pay attention to the teacher instead of him.
But Haru had left. And Akira had left. And Natsuki had left. And Yuki had been alone in the classroom again.
But Haru had come back.
And with him brought an entirely new level of awkward.
“Haru-kun, that is not appropriate behavior for the classroom,” the teacher droned, as Yuki tried to sink into the floor.
Haru looked over from where he’d been petting Yuki’s hair. “Ehhh? But I’m not doing anything!”
“Yes you are please stop,” Yuki hissed. Haru looked deeply hurt.
“Okayyy,” Haru said sadly. He removed his hands and turned back to the front of the classroom. Yuki took several minutes to raise himself back up.
Once class was over, Yuki grabbed Haru’s shoulder. Haru turned around with a brilliant grin. “You can’t do that at school, okay?” Yuki said. “No kissing, no hand-holding, nothing.”
Haru looked like Yuki had told him Christmas was canceled. “But I thought you liked it!” he said.
Yuki tried very hard to not turn red. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded. “I do, just--at home? Not here? And not at the Hemingway? Or anywhere that isn’t home?”
Haru’s eyebrows wrinkled. “I don’t get it,” he said.
“It’s like--you wouldn’t fish in a place where there aren’t any fish, right?”
“Right!”
“Well, thinking of me liking it as a fish. School is a place that doesn’t have fish. So you can’t fish here. You have to wait until you can go somewhere else.”
Haru seemed to think about it for a moment. “Okay,” he said.
Yuki let out a sigh of relief. Usually similes and metaphors were lost on Haru, but fishing seemed to be a universal tactic.
“I’ll just fish you at home, then!”
The window was looking mighty tempting.
---
By mutual and immediate agreement, Urara slept in the fish bowl. He ventured outside for school and fishing, but had to be convinced he needed to be human-shaped to do homework, which wasn’t nearly as much of a nightmare as Yuki had expected--Haru had taken weeks to understand that no, really, grades were important, if he was going to be at school he had to stay in school. Urara was much more quiet about it.
Urara was much more quiet about a lot of things, for which Yuki was profoundly grateful. When a study session inevitably devolved into Haru flopping onto Yuki’s lap and declaring that calculus was haaaard, Yuki, he didn’t need it, on his planet math just sort of happened and nobody needed to write it down, Urara politely excused himself into another room and Yuki was all the more relieved for it.
“Humans have to learn how to do math, it takes practice,” Yuki said, stroking Haru’s hair. Extricating Haru at home had proved an increasingly fruitless task, so eventually he’d just learned to roll with it.
“Humans always have to think about stuff,” Haru grumbled. “When we want to do something we just do. Like the spaceships. And why we can look like you.”
“Why can you look like us?” Yuki asked. He’d always wondered, but it seemed rude to ask without prompting.
Haru looked up at Yuki. “If you came to my planet I could show you,” he said, with no trace of joking in his eyes.
Yuki rested his hand on Haru’s hair. “I can’t do that,” he said quietly. “I have to stay here. Even once I finish school, I can’t leave Grandma behind.”
“I know,” Haru mumbled. “It’s just that there’s so much I could show you--how we do things, what everyone looks like…it’s so pretty there, Yuki, and everyone would like you, I know they would.”
Yuki was silent for a while. “Maybe someday,” he said eventually. He didn’t say--when I don’t need to worry about leaving Grandma behind--but he didn’t think he needed to.
Haru pressed his face against Yuki’s stomach and made a vague noise.
“Come on, you need to at least try to write it down,” Yuki said, moving his hand to push Haru off. “If the teacher makes you stay after school again you won’t get to go fishing.”
Haru made a half-hearted protest before sliding off and sitting back up. After a minute, Urara came back into the room and joined them.
They actually managed to finish the assignment that time. Yuki cherished the small victories.
---
Haru had taken to the concept of necking on the couch like--well--a fish to water. Yuki could barely watch TV anymore; once they were on the couch, it was immediately kissing time, regardless of whether or not Yuki had already picked up the remote. He didn’t mind, per se, but he kind of missed seeing the news.
One day, they were sitting together, Haru’s arms around Yuki’s shoulders and Yuki’s arms around Haru’s hips, when Haru suddenly pulled back and pushed Yuki down onto the couch. Yuki was startled for a moment, but then Haru fell back on top of him and said, brightly, “The angle’s better this way,” and went right back to the kissing.
Haru hadn’t really taken to kissing with tongues--he’d made a face and said it was slimy, which Yuki kind of agreed with--but he loved kissing Yuki all over the face, forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, the corner of his mouth. He’d tried nibbling, once, but declared it weird.
Yuki didn’t know what this was. Haru didn’t come with an instruction book. Even if he were entirely human, Haru was kind of…Yuki didn’t know. Maybe Haru didn’t know either.
Haru hmmd against Yuki’s neck. He shifted his legs a little, probably just to get comfortable, but--
no no no Yuki hadn’t wanted this to come up he literally could not imagine anything more awkward and did Haru even know, he knew about kissing but did he--Yuki tried very hard to not pay attention to the friction and the warmth and the slight pressure of Haru’s legs between his but--
--seventeen, okay, some things couldn’t be helped--
Haru was looking at him with those same guileless eyes he’d had when he’d first kissed him and Yuki didn’t know what to do.
“I’ll just,” Yuki mumbled, “um--”
“I can help you with that,” Haru said.
Haru’s face hadn’t changed. But Yuki thought--
--he thought. He looked back at it all. Haru had only ever seemed interested in kissing. Even tongues were weird to him. He was a fish. And, most tellingly, Haru didn’t seem to be having any difficulties of his own right now.
“…I don’t think you want to,” Yuki said slowly. “Um. I mean--I don’t think you like that sort of thing, so I’ll just go…take a shower or something. I don’t want to bother you with this. Seriously, I don’t.”
Haru looked profoundly relieved. He buried his head in Yuki’s chest and mumbled, “You’re the best, Yuki,” and something in Yuki tightened, but not in a bad way.
Haru pulled back and perched on the edge of the couch. Yuki managed to get up with no further incident. It was awkward, walking to the bathroom, but he could deal with this, there was already so much weirdness in his life that this wasn’t even a blip. The embarrassing thought bubbled up inside him that Haru was worth it, anyway.
Grandma was going to figure it out, if she hadn’t already. But she’d understand--if anything, she’d probably be happy about not having to pretend she didn’t hear anything. Urara…well, Urara wouldn’t be surprised at all, would he.
Yuki had no intention whatsoever of letting anyone else find out, though.
---
The next day, Yuki cornered Urara after dinner. Haru was talking with Grandma about--something, Yuki wasn’t sure, but whatever it was had Haru in rapt attention. So Yuki, probably.
“Hey,” Yuki said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “How well do you know Haru?”
Urara blinked. “…I knew him a long time ago,” he said, eventually. “I didn’t remember him very well. These days he seems very…happy?”
In the background, Haru broke into a fit of giggles at something Grandma had said.
“Yeah,” Yuki said. To him, Haru had been happy from the start, or had seemed like it. “I meant--back on your planet, do you know if he ever had a boyfriend, girlfriend…? Do your people have that sort of thing?”
Urara took a moment to answer. He did that a lot; Yuki thought he might still be getting used to actually talking to people. “We have something like that,” he said. “I never saw Haru with one. But I didn’t know him very well.”
“So…” Yuki floundered; sometimes he wasn’t much better than Urara. “With humans, though…? I mean--me and Haru--is it weird?”
Urara shrugged. “Is it weird for your people?”
“Yeah,” Yuki said, clenching his fingers tight around the edge of the counter. “But him even being here is weird, so…I just wondered if you had a different perspective.”
“Are you happy?” Urara asked.
“I--yeah,” Yuki said. “I am.” He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been happier. And all of it was because of Haru.
“And he’s happy,” Urara said, tilting his head towards Haru. “So I think they’d be happy too.”
Yuki hadn’t learned very much from the conversation, but he felt a great sense of relief anyway. “Thanks,” he said. He stepped away from the counter.
Suddenly, Yuki felt the hard whump of Haru leaping onto him from behind. “Hey, hey, are you talking about me? That’s not faiiiiir,” he heard coming from somewhere on top of his head.
“You were talking about me,” Yuki said. Or he thought they were, at least.
“That’s different,” Haru muttered into Yuki’s hair. “I always talk about you.”
“We weren’t saying anything you didn’t know,” Urara said. He inclined his head slightly. “Goodnight,” he said, and left the kitchen.
Haru slid down Yuki’s back and butted his head against Yuki’s shoulderblades. “Are you going to bed now?” he said, his voice muffled.
“I’ve got homework, you know that. And you do too.” Urara had finished his in class. No one could say he couldn’t dedicate himself to something.
“Nn,” Haru said indistinctly. He slid around to Yuki’s front and looked up at him. “Now?”
Yuki looked back at him. Haru was happy. He was happy. Grandma seemed to think it was sweet. Urara had expressed vague approval.
He didn’t know exactly how Natsuki and Akira would react. Natsuki probably wouldn’t be surprised. Akira would probably be scandalized for about thirty seconds before grudgingly wishing them happiness.
Haru was blissfully happy. And when it came down to it, that was all that mattered.
Yuki leaned down and kissed Haru on the mouth. Haru looked surprised for a moment before grinning widely and pushing up to kiss as much of Yuki’s face as possible. Yuki couldn’t help giggling.
He still wasn’t great at talking. But this, whatever this was--he thought he was okay at it.