An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
So, um.
I've been working on this fic for over two years now. It's not long, but I poured my entire heart into this thing. This is the only piece I've worked on longer than I did Anatomy, and I hope it shows how much of myself I bled into each word.
This started as a little revenge project, a way to get back at @ezzydean for Stop the World, but it grew into so much more than that. This fic has helped me work through a lot of the turmoil I've been through, and I realized tonight that it's time to let it out into the world.
So, yeah. 26k of hitting your lowest point, and the slow climb back out of that. I hope you find something in it, be it simple entertainment or something deeper.
Haru scowled and continued to work the lather through Kisumi’s hair. Kisumi didn’t admit it to Haru, but his fidgetiness was only partially from Haru’s fingers in his hair (a weakness of Kisumi’s that Haru had discovered and taken advantage of long ago).
This certainly wasn’t the first time they’d been naked together, but for the last couple months it was always under strictly physical, stress-relief circumstances. Haru had been okay with that, Kisumi had been okay with that, and their weird, special harmony was established with little complication.
That is, until an hour ago, when Haru had done something particularly amazing with his mouth that made Kisumi slip, “God, Haru, I love you,” before he realized what he was saying.
The only sign that Haru made that confirmed he had heard Kisumi’s sudden statement was a momentary pause, so Kisumi, trying to hide his mortification, had hoped that maybe Haru assumed he’d misheard Kisumi. Or, maybe Haru would let the comment slide, and they could both pretend that nothing had happened, that nothing would change.
But, after, when Haru and Kisumi were both a sticky mess, Haru had turned to Kisumi and simply said, “Bath.” That was the first time Kisumi had ever been invited to Haru’s “holy shrine” as it were, and so Kisumi knew he’d been caught.
When Haru was satisfied with his work on Kisumi’s hair, he left Kisumi to wash off. Haru had already cleaned himself, and so he stepped into the readied bath; Kisumi took a quick glance at the door as he dumped water over his head, considering if he could skip the soak and slip away from the oncoming conversation without Haru making a fuss.
Relax, you know that he doesn’t hate you. Kisumi had learned that much, at least, over the last few months. Anything more than that was a mystery.
Finally, Kisumi lowered himself into the bath on the other side of the tub. Haru was looking down at the water, his expression blank, and Kisumi was careful to situate his limbs so that they didn’t touch. He didn’t wnat to impose too much, being too familiar. Maybe Haru wanted that space, especially if Kisumi had crossed an unspoken line.
“Ahh, this is nice,” Kisumi laughed nervously. “I can see why you like taking baths so much.”
At first Haru didn’t reply. He was tracing a finger down his calf under the water, as if curious how the movement would feel. He paused a moment more, and then said, “Makoto says that I need to talk more.”
Kisumi blinked, then chuckled. “Really? I don’t see anything wrong with you being quiet.”
“No, that isn’t what he meant…” Haru sighed, then looked up at Kisumi directly. “He meant I need to tell people about how I feel. Even if I don’t like it. I can’t keep my feelings to myself, especially from the people I care about.”
The response made Kisumi jump, but he tried to play it off. “Ha, Makoto’s full of good advice…would I happen to be one of those people you care about?”
This time it was Haru who blinked at Kisumi. “Of course you are.”
Oh god, this is too much… “Listen, Haru, I’m sorry,” Kisumi started. “I didn’t mean to push my feelings on you or anything—I don’t mind the way things are, and I’m not interested in taking anything from you that you aren’t willing to give—”
“Did you mean it?” Haru asked suddenly.
“Huh?”
“Did you mean it?”
Kisumi let his mouth hang open for a moment. “Yeah…yeah, I meant it.”
“Okay,” Haru said. “I feel that way too.”
“You do?!” Kisumi exclaimed. Sure, not the most suave of responses, but Kisumi’s heart was pounding after hearing the words he never dreamed Haru would say.
“Yeah, I do.” Haru reached his hand through the water, tangling his fingers with Kisumi’s own. “I love you too.”
A million thoughts were buzzing through Kisumi’s head, so fast and loud that he couldn’t tell one from the other. Still, he managed a smile, and squeezed Haru’s hand; there’d be time to sort out their feelings and desires later, but for now, Kisumi let himself be content with just a quiet bath, and sharing it with a boy who, miracles of miracles, wanted to kiss him and hold hands.
Haruka: This is a surprise for Makoto. You can’t tell anybody else about this. Okay?
Ikuya: I just told Asahi.
Asahi: Yeah, and I told Kisumi.
Kisumi: ... And I told many, many people.
Kisumi: Good evening, Mr. Hot Firefighter! How was your pasta?
Makoto: Oh, amazing, thank you! Send my compliments to the chef!
Kisumi: Anything for you!
[In the kitchen]
Kisumi: Hey, chef!
Haruka: What?
Kisumi: You have a beautiful ass!
