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Haru was obviously smitten with Yuki. He always had been. But, he was also patient. He never pried anything from Yuki — whether it be answers or a reaction. And he certainly, certainly didn’t seek to irk any discomfort within the boy. So it came across as mildly shocking when Yuki voiced his own feelings first. Or, moreover, what he specifically wished to accomplish when considering Hatsuharu.
They were settled within the content atmosphere of Haru’s room. Haru laid sprawled over his bed, various notes and scribbles from school assignments scattered around his figure. Yuki sat a bit away, sitting not quite too comfortably yet seeming comfortable enough while pondering over his own assignment.
A pencil laid between Yuki’s fingertips, the eraser resting against his bottom lip. Then he decidedly asked, “Can I kiss you?” his gaze neither locked upon Haru nor his homework, but who else could he be referring to?
Haru assumed he must’ve misheard him, choosing to ignore the want pricking his brain. Unfortunately that didn’t stop a slight heat from rising and settling, dusting his complexion. Soon that same heat turned to full throttle as Yuki prodded his side using his pencil.
Maybe he hadn’t misheard him…?
“Hey, did you hear me?” Yuki questioned with a persistence that was quite familiar. He’d never seen Yuki in this particular light and thought that perhaps he wanted to more often. “I asked if I could kiss you?”
Haru sucked in a deep breath, completely unprepared for what that might entail. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
“Okay.” Was Yuki’s suddenly soft response. Slow and hesitant shuffling then followed, Haru knowing Yuki was close before feeling his breath fan his features lightly.
A painfully long silence passed and he bit the inner part of his cheek, reeling under Yuki’s gaze. Was he uncomfortable? No. Was he in awe of Yuki? Yes. Fingertips slid to cup his cheekbones steadily, every second in between nearly leaving Haru breathless. The only processable thing was Yuki, his vision precariously tracing what laid before him.
Yuki must’ve been trying to maintain an indistinct expression. His features looked calm toward the naked eye, but Haru? Haru could read Yuki as if he were his favorite book, failing to be fooled by any front. He could recognize the scarce uncertainty oozing from Yuki’s every movement. Haru could also depict that, while Yuki seemed hesitant, he didn’t look ready to give up on his current predicament, either. In fact, the older boy’s brow even pinched slightly as the distance separating them dissipated — an indication of blooming concentration.
Haru, however, had been so focused upon studying everything about Yuki — from his expression to the wavering emotions pooling within his grey stare — to note just how close they were. More importantly, how close their lips were. Yuki’s practically danced around his own in an unintentional, teasing manner. And all it took was the shift of Haru’s gaze, it flickering down towards Yuki’s lips, for contact to initiate.
The action could easily be compared to a swan dive. Yuki dipped into Haru, a rough yet overall gentle kick behind his lip’s movements. There was a subtle innocence in addition, Hatsuharu being sure that — if he were standing — his knees would surely buckle. Regardless, he sunk into the junction. His lips eagerly returned anything given, adding more just because he could and also to ogle Yuki’s reaction. Which, after Haru pulled his bottom lip, decidedly bringing it closer and sucking on it, had been a shallow gasp.
“Do you want to stop?” Haru murmured outwardly. The feeling of Yuki’s mouth had slipped away from his own momentarily, palms once lying on his cheekbones now residing in his multi-colored locks.
“No, no it’s fine- I liked it,” An earnest tone accompanied his voice. Yuki was smiling ever so slightly, even, as well once Haru peeled away enough to see it.
“Alright, good.”
Good, Haru repeated within his own headspace, unsure whether or not he would’ve been able to look at Yuki the same if he’d said otherwise. Unsure if anything would be the same either way.
A comforting touch threaded through his hair, coaxing the strands in different directions. In response to this, Haru closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel every ounce of tranquility just being near Yuki brought him. This unknowingly led him closer to the very source, and he captured Yuki’s lips with his own, any adrenaline-related spark from before gone.
Now only they remained. No homework lying around them. No sound from outside Haru’s window. Only their lips. Only them. Nothing was in need of being spoken, the gentle flow between their mouths enough to write an entire monologue.
Yuki tilted Haru’s chin upwards to gain better access, Haru feeling a shiver climb his spine and sparks bloom under his skin at the very action. He was so lost. So lost in everything that was Yuki, and he was loving it, eyes glued shut as he practically melted into every sensation.
Yet behind closed eyes there lie insecurities Haru didn’t often give attention to. Doubts which, although always present, were easy to ignore. That nothing was permanent. That there was no reason for anything happening. That Yuki wasn’t interested in him as anything more, their interactions simply placeholders.
All it took were those groundbreaking, cataclysmic thoughts for Haru’s eyes to fly open. This caught Yuki off guard, the boy stumbling backwards a few inches, unsure of what exactly was going on.
But he didn’t touch again. Didn’t dare invade when he saw the way Haru looked at him. So vulnerable, like he had just taken a bullet, blood pooling at his feet rather than kept behind flesh walls. He wasn’t crying, seeming to be holding on by a single thread when it came to appearance, wiping vicariously at nothing. Yet there was no doubt in Yuki’s mind that something was wrong, the atmosphere swirling around them having altered.
Yuki inhaled sharply begging his heart to slow, the adrenaline’s influence not quite gone yet. Maybe, maybe it wasn’t even the adrenaline anymore but indecisiveness fogging his vision. The world came across as colorful and full of lines. Ones which meshed together in a manner he couldn’t depict. Almost as if he were peering through stained glass.
This time the older Sohma boy had missed the most important line, perhaps crossing it with a simple, curious question.
He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t wanted to. He only wanted something that he was sure of. Something undoubtedly real which he could say he’d grasped with his own hands. Or, in this case, lips.
Yuki hadn’t meant to hurt Haru.
Should I stay? Should I go?
No decision weighed as right currently, either painting an outcome Yuki didn’t like. So when Haru coughed, a tight stream of air struggling to squeeze from his lungs and forming the words, “Don’t go.” he knew he needed to do something.
He needed to be brave. If not for himself, then for Haru. He needed to be brave for Haru. And reaching forwards, touching Haru on his own accord, was the bravest connotation he could think of.
That’s why Yuki placed a sure hand on his shoulder, assuming it must be better than nothing. “I’m not going anywhere.”
There were many habits and ideals that made Yuki himself. Hatsuharu Sohma knew that like it’d always been laying in his lap. He also knew that, while Yuki wasn’t helpless or incapable, the concept of touch was still unfamiliar to him. For Yuki to reach out in the midst of unsureness — that, that was something Haru wasn’t expecting. But he was grateful for it none the less.
It didn’t fix everything rushing at him simultaneously. What it did serve as was a beacon in the middle of a murky storm, lighting a path for Haru to stumble along. His lips twitched upwards, senses starting to relax under the small touch.
The following silence cradled delicate breathing and lingering touch. Haru talked himself through each breath, Yuki observing him carefully, understanding that this was something he should do alone.
Only after coupled moments did they finally meet each other’s gaze. Both seemed more sure, certain that a single word wouldn’t shatter everything — well, whatever it was — between them. And, surprisingly yet also unsurprisingly, Haru was the one to speak first tackling the unspoken right at its core.
“Why are we doing this, Yuki…?”
Despite knowing it was coming Yuki wasn’t quite prepared. The question came layered in spikes and bruising cruelty, difficult in every criteria to answer, after all.
“I don’t know…” Yuki whispered outwardly, honest upon all else. “I just…- I’ve wanted something real for awhile now. Something I wouldn’t be unsure of. And when I think of that…. All I can pinpoint is you.”
Whatever Haru expected Yuki’s answer to be, it wasn’t that. He’d anticipated unsureness. Maybe even a slap to the face sort of response. But never, never had he thought Yuki would feel the same.
The thought made him want to kiss Yuki breathless. However, he didn’t deem that fair as Yuki had just poured out a piece of his heart, and Haru knew he needed to say something.
“When I think of you — of us — I think of something real too.” The younger boy confirmed, the words dripping from his lips like honey. Like he’d been waiting an eternity just to utter them.
“So what does that make us?”
“Whatever you want us to be.”
“I think I want you to be my boyfriend…”
Haru smiled lightly, feeling sickly sweet all over as his eyes oozed affection whilst looking at Yuki. It was likely that nothing could make him happier in the moment. “I’d like that.”
“Me too,” Yuki confirmed with a little nod. A shine glistened overtop his gaze, expressing the sincerity of his words. “I’d like that a lot.”