Archive of Our Own

[BGM]

“It’s...it’s not that I’m scared of storms or anything…!” Akira pressed on, unable to meet his friend’s gaze, complete with his signature quirked brow. “It’s just your stupid idea of sticking the couch next to fifty windows!”

“Twelve, but in some universe, you may have been right.” Ryo smirked, watching the boy squirm in place, bare toes curling into the hardwood floor as he shifted from foot to foot.

Akira looked up at him with deep brown eyes -- a very, very quiet plea. If the little bastard could ever get over his teenage pride, he may have asked for some reassurance. Thankfully Ryo had spent enough time with him to more or less read his thoughts -- as much as he recoiled at the actual possibility.

Their demon hunting escapade had been put on hold for the night, due to a storm warning issued for the area. And as Ryo put it, “Akira, as much as I love getting struck by lightning, I don’t.”

So takeout was ordered, some trashy anime was playing, and the boys had finally come to standing in the living room in nothing but pajama bottoms, silently debating the awkward armistice of “who’s sleeping where.”

Ryo didn’t have guests. Therefore, he didn’t bother with having a guest room. Had he known Akira would more or less be living with him and not Miki Makimura’s family...he would have considered one being built.

The boy never really complained though. Of course, even if he was always full of snide remarks like sleeping on the remote, or getting a leg stuck between the cushions, he genuinely seemed much...happier, Ryo supposed, in this house.

He didn’t blame the kid for an instant. Any place void of Miki was heaven sent in his book.

And, of course, Akira would certainly die before admitting it, but he did hang like a warm jacket off of Ryo’s arm. Whether or not it was admiration, or something else...Ryo couldn’t decide.

A flash of lightning lit up the room like midday, yanking him from his thoughts as he saw the boy bristle all the way up to his fluffy hair.

The thunder struck almost instantly after, and Ryo looked down to see a shuddering Akira flush to his bare chest. He resisted the urge to chuckle and shake his head, instead resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezing it gently.

Akira was stubborn. He wouldn't agree to anything that sounded like he was about to be coddled -- and Ryo had learned to work around it.

“I’ve got some work for you to do, if you’re interested.”  He murmured, frowning at the way the boy’s eyes remained wide and unfocused. “You can just sit on the bed and back up data if you don’t want to be out here.”

Akira nodded with a raspy hum, slowly relaxing as Ryo reassuringly stroked his back. He blinked, snapping out of his trance, and jerked away.

“Yeah, yeah...fine.”

He seemed...Ryo scowled. Uptight?
“Just don’t be so touchy-feely when I’m there. I know I look good, but--” He grinned, beaming smarmily up at his friend, who (against his better judgement) found himself smirking back. There it was. Trying to blow off any awkward interactions by playing it as a ‘no homo’ joke.

Akira, you absolute fucking idiot. Ryo thankfully caught himself before saying it aloud.

“Keep your pants on, and we’ll see.” It slipped out, but the stunned look on the kid’s face was fucking priceless.
That was the nerve to strike. Ryo didn’t even give him the satisfaction of a sly grin, and turned around, padding off to the bedroom.

Akira stared wide eyed after him, and swallowed. Hard.

Sure, they fucked around on occasion, shooting the shit while smoking weed on the roof or in the back of his Bel-air, but it was always...just that. Two guys fooling around, wisecracking and butting heads.

Right?

But something had been a little different recently. Ryo had gotten way more tight-assed in the past few weeks. As if he was...too old for his friend.

Akira’s lip curled. He wasn’t a damn kid. Nothing pissed him off more than the patronizing glances Ryo gave him nowadays.

Huffing to himself, he shook the thoughts from his head and shuffled off to the bedroom.

His skin was still hot from his earlier shower, and the summer storm outside didn’t make it any less warmer.

Ryo looked up from his writing desk, swiveling slowly in the chair to face the boy.

“Laptop’s on the bed, instructions beside it.” He took the pen from his mouth and pointed with it. “When you get tired, tell me. I’ll turn the lights off so you can sleep, alright?”

Akira looked from the laptop to his friend, then back again, and blinked.

...No, don’t think too hard, dumbass. He’s saying that cuz he doesn’t want you to fuck up copying his code. Stop pretending that voice is just for you, even if you heard how he spoke over the phone to the delivery guy.

But he wanted to indulge in those thoughts.

He scuffled over to the bed and flopped down, opening the laptop, and leaning over to read the loose leaf of notes.

He wanted to think about how Ryo and he were something...mutually exclusive. It felt so good, imagining having a friend all to yourself, and you belonged to them. Especially when all his life he rarely had anything to himself -- and now that he lived with Miki, even less so.

At least in his old home, he had his privacy.

[BGM]

Akira’s ears perked as Ryo turned on the stereo system, the low thumping bass flooding the room with a smooth rhythm.

“This is stripper music, dude.” He grumbled, opening the files described in the notes, and catching the flash drive Ryo tossed at his face.

“It’s good music.” His friend replied flatly, and returned to his work.

“It’d be way better if it was Green Day.” Akira complained loudly over the song, sneaking a piece of gum from the bedside table. He popped it in his mouth, wishing it was tough like jerky. Being part demon meant chew stims were necessary, but...

He looked up. Did Ryo really want to quit smoking? He never seemed to do it when Akira was around, or at least not when he was awake. That's what the gum was for, he was sure of it. Same reason he had a pen in his mouth, too.

“While I respect them, I don’t necessarily feel like tearing down capitalist pigs tonight.” Ryo leaned back, hand outstretched for some gum. “Sorry I didn’t pick you up any jerky earlier.”

Akira blinked, but dropped a piece in his friend’s hand.

Was Ryo being...nice? Was that the word? No...no, considerate would be better…

Ryo caught the boy disassociating hard, eyes fixed blindly on the space where his slender hand had been.

“Akira.” Gently. Then, “Is everything alright?”

“It’s got a good beat.” The boy mumbled, head bobbing slightly. A slow smile spread across his lips and he looked up, biting at them, shoulders swaying to the tune. “You in a stripper mood or somethin’, Ryo?” Fangs gleamed in the lamplight.

His friend jerked back, bristling at the devilish look in Akira’s once soft owl-brown eyes. Pale cheeks prickled with heat, but he shook it away, pulling a sideburn behind his ear.

“Get a grip.” He hissed, icy eyes averted, “It’s cooldown music.”

“Sounds like you’re warmin’ up though, eh, Frosty?” Akira pressed, shifting to lean over the side of the bed on his hands and knees, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“You’re big talk for someone who’s idea of flirting is walking under the cheerleader’s section of the bleachers at home games.” Ryo snapped, cursing how he crumbled so easily under such little pressure -- just because it was Akira, the little punk.

But it hurt much more knowing the boy was nothing but a tease. Big talk was all it was -- wasn't it? He just wanted to ruffle his feathers, fluster the unflusterable.

Right?

Akira shrugged, running his tongue along the underside of his pointed canines.

“Someone’s gotta do it.” The grin turned absolutely vicious, “Some don't even wear panties, didja know that?”

Ryo recoiled at the thought, shivering.

“You are absolutely vile, Fudo Akira.” He scowled, but the boy just pulled back to stretch out, making utterly lewd noises as he flexed.

“You ain't into that shit?” He looked down his broad chest at the furtive Ryo.

“God, no.”

“Guys then?”

His friend sighed hotly, and swiveled back around in his chair. “Less talk, more work -- unless you’re ready to sleep, idiot.”

Akira frumped, and flopped back on the bed, curling on his side. Copying code and backing up data was boring. And Ryo wasn’t any fun either if he couldn’t be teased.

A relaxed silence settled on the pair. Akira’s eyelids began to droop, and he yawned quietly, whuffing to himself.

The next thing he knew, someone was stroking his hair, weaving slender fingers through the thick locks. He jerked awake at the sensation, only to realize he’d been drooling. With a sleepy grunt, he lifted his head, cracking open a weary eye to see Ryo sitting beside him, now gently petting his shoulders. A tired smile crossed his lips as he looked down at the boy.

The air conditioning had made it chillier than Akira would have liked, his bare back shivering. Wordlessly, he pulled himself over to lay in Ryo’s lap, nose to his hip, indulging in his friend’s warmth as the petting continued.

“....Akira…” The voice was tender and low, but the boy still twitched in acknowledgement.

Ryo leaned over, as awkward as it was, and gently pressed his lips to the boy’s soft side, smiling at how there was still some baby fat left over, even after having fused with Amon.

Akira’s eyes flew open, and he gurgled, scooting away clumsily from the touch. Instead, he just wound up throwing himself entirely across Ryo’s lap in the process.

“Dude! C-c’mon...d-don’t do that shit…!” The boy stammered, face already prickling with heat. He hastily hid it in his shoulder.

“Why not?” Ryo mused, the smile growing wider as he lightly traced the contours of his friend’s torso with the back of his fingers. He was duly rewarded with shudders and breathy squeaks -- MUCH to Akira’s chagrin.

He knew, one-hundred-percent, that if the boy truly hated this, he’d have already gotten up and thrown a fit over it all. But Akira remained, trembling, red face smushed into the crook of his shoulder.

“C-Cuz...c-cuz friends don’t...don’t...do this…” He gasped, the fingers now squeezing playfully at his rugged hips, causing them to tense up.

“Says who?” Ryo leaned down to whisper in the boy’s ear. He could almost see every hair raise on the back of his neck. “Says who, Akira?” His voice was suddenly sharp as his hands firmly gripped the boys hips, thumbs digging below the waistband.

“M-Miki!” Akira bristled, untucking his nose to take a breath, obviously in some sort of...distress. Ryo lived for that damn face, those upturned brows, the quivering bottom lip, how his gorgeous brown eyes unfocused -- wait, Miki?!

His hands withdrew like they’d been shoved into ice water.

With a low “hmph,” Ryo looked away, eyes narrowed.

“Since when do you listen to that stupid girl?” He frowned, folding his arms. Akira took some stabilizing breaths before pushing himself up from his friend’s lap.

“She’s not stupid.” He blushed, also looking away, “She helps me a lot with my homework.”

Ryo made a dismissive noise. “So do I.”

Pettiness was above him, but if some idiot teenage girl was going to get in his way -- he’d stoop low enough to kick her out of the picture.

Akira smiled weakly, straightening out his pj bottoms.

“Yeah, I know, but…” He scowled a bit, “I wonder if she still thinks I’m like a little brother to her. Just cause she was born a couple months before me doesn't mean--” He began to prattle on before Ryo curtly cut him off.

[BGM]

“I’ve heard enough. Get ready for bed.”

Ryo had gotten up from the sheets, ice blue eyes dark and distant. He stared bitterly out the window at the summer storm lashing at the glass panes.

The song came to an abrupt stop.

Akira blinked up at him, a mix of confusion and agitation clouding his boyish features.

“I know you don’t like her, but--” He started to protest, but was silenced by the lights flickering before going out, a massive crash of thunder shaking the house a fraction of a second later.

The boy let out a panicked scream, to which Ryo went to comfort in a flash. A sob caught in Akira’s throat as he felt strong arms wrap securely around him, the smell of expensive aftershave and the heat of their bare chests touching both soothing and electrifying to him.

“...” Akira shuddered, a tiny whine escaping him. A whine that sounded too close to “Mama” to be ignored.

"It’s not that I’m afraid of storms..."

Like a shock shooting up his veins and crippling his heart, Ryo finally understood.

It wasn’t the lightning, nor the thunder, but what they had brought.

Akira had lost his parents that night, got the call that night it stormed. Was orphaned by the flashes of light and rolling quakes.

Soft kisses to the temple, gentle rocking, steady heartbeats and fingers lacing with faith were what it took to settle the boy from his anxiety.

“...Shh...let’s forget about it now. You need to sleep -- you have school in the morning.” Ryo murmured, pulling away to look down at the distraught boy. “Stay with me here. I’ll keep you safe.”

Akira nodded, a weak whuff in his throat before he pushed his forehead to his friend’s collar, the grief draining all the strength he had left from his bones.

He used to love summer. Used to love the heat, the beaches, the cold popsicles and sticky syrup that stained lips--but now, once the sun went down, his heart, his fear was his own worst enemy.

--

[BGM]

“The backup generator seems to be malfunctioning…” Ryo’s voice echoed from Akira’s phone on the pillow beside his head. He had begged for him to be on call while he went to the basement to check on the machine. Just in case. “I’ll be up in a minute. Looks like it’ll be candlelight tonight.”

Akira managed a weak grin, voice hoarse, “How romantic.”

“Forgive my lack of rose bouquets and chocolate, Akira.” A mirrored grin was evident in Ryo’s tone.

Silence.

Then, quietly. A small, small voice.

“...That’s okay.” A sharp inhale, a shaky exhale, “...I just need you.”

Ryo stopped mid step, pulling the phone from the crook of his neck and staring at it.

Silence.

“Stay put, I’ll be there in a moment.” He resumed his walk, phone back to his ear as he went up the basement stairs. “Do you have Cottontail with you?”

A muffled “Mhm.” was the response.

“Good. Hold him close for me, okay?” Ryo spoke softly, nearing the staircase to the second floor.

A puffing churr was heard, and Akira made an embarrassed noise.

“You’re gay.” He grumbled, voice muffled as he buried his blushing face into the side of his old, favorite stuffed rabbit.

“I try.” Ryo chuckled. He had reached the door to the bedroom.

“The adventure wasn’t successful, but I have returned.” He teased, opening the door and smiling as he could see (by the light of his phone’s flashlight, of course) Akira curled up in a lump of sheets, Cottontail hugged tightly to his breast. The boy’s flustered frown melted into a shy smile.

“...Hey.” He whispered.

“Hey.” Ryo echoed, drawing closer, setting down a few thick, scented candles on the nightstand, lighting them with his cigarette lighter. He lay his phone down beside them, scrolling through a few playlists before he found something with Bon Iver and Ben Howard in it, hitting play.

It was if Akira was handmade, tailored to fit into every contour of his body as he slipped into bed beside the boy, only to instantly be pulled into a warm hug. Ryo smiled to himself, the only genuine happiness he’d ever admit he felt was when he was with Akira.

Even if the thunder rattled the boy’s bones, even if the lightning blinded his eyes, he knew he was safe in these arms. Safe, as long as he heard that heartbeat on his ear, felt those fingers stroking his hair, squeezing his shoulders -- safe, even when fear itself lived on the inside of his eyelids.

“Hold Cottontail close.” Ryo whispered to to remind the boy, “You have to protect him from storms. You know how silly he gets.”

Akira was vulnerable enough to agree to such childish suggestions, and reaffirmed his grip on the stuffed bunny in his arms.

“Just focus on the music, Akira. Close your eyes, it’ll pass soon enough.” Ryo’s voice was all the boy wanted to hear, wanted to feel against his ear like the pulse of his heart.

He sunk into the waters of sleep like a stone, the world fading around him, but Ryo’s tender humming to the music remained. His perfect touch lingered, slender fingers buried deep in dark locks, pale lips to the top of his head.

Akira was convinced falling asleep in Ryo’s arms was as close to heaven as he’d get.

--

[BGM]

Dawn came like grace on a Sunday morning.

Ryo felt hot breath and cold drool on his collarbone, and there was a tuft of hair in his mouth.

He kept his eyes closed, the sound of Akira’s breathing all the familiarity he needed to instinctively smile.

But he wanted more. Just a little more.

With a warm sigh, he stretched and shifted, rolling onto his side and taking the boy with him, burying his nose in the top of his hair, kissing it.

The music on his phone rocked his consciousness like a cradle, shuffling of fingers on guitar strings and soothing harmonies making the penthouse into a home.

Akira took his first shaky breath, cold little nose smushed to the soft of Ryo’s jaw, reaching wiry arms out, tangling tanned legs, a smile on his lips as he recognized that aftershave. Something wonderful flooded his heart, made him want to push closer.

Without thinking, he pressed parted lips to Ryo’s neck, before nuzzling the spot with his cheek.

His friend briefly stiffened at the touch -- Akira never kissed him. Not unless he got injured during their hunts, and in his fading consciousness felt salty lips push desperately against his temple, begging for the mercy of God -- but he knew never to bring those moments up.

Ryo suddenly frowned, noticing something else was getting a little more affectionate than usual, in the form of rolling hips and something suspiciously hot against his thigh.

It took just about every ounce of restraint in his body to not laugh out loud as Akira grinded up against him, panting hums in his throat. Was he still asleep? Probably more so than awake.

The urge to laugh suddenly vanished into a cold sweat as the boy began to quietly mumble a name.

His name.

Oh, my God, Akira was -- was thinking of him?!

Ryo bristled, heart a beating vice in his chest, eyes wide as he stared down at a now whimpering Akira.
Wait, fuck -- was he getting close? Shit, he must be -- he was starting to tense up --

“Akira…” Then, louder, “...Akira! Wake up.” Without thinking, he added a very hushed, “Babe.” at the end.

Suffice to say, it played out just as you’d expect, Akira flustered as all hell and denying everything, cramming his dick back into his pajama bottoms and sitting up, face flushed as the day he was born.

Ryo simply laughed and blew it off, knowing not to press it. Akira scrambled out of the bed and stumbled off, saying he “just had to piss” as he made his way to the bathroom.

--

[BGM]

“How many eggs?” Ryo opened the fridge, retrieving a carton and a pack of bacon. Both had come from the Makimura’s neighbor, who was a butcher and owned a small clutch of chickens -- Akira helped the man with some repair work on the hen house and hog stables, and was given some fresh eggs and bacon in return. Which, he had brought right away to Ryo as some sort of gift -- a little red in the face and shy-spoken.

Thinking back on it, Ryo realized just how little Akira had actually changed since Sabbath. He still was kind and generous, he still had his moments of meekness.

“Uh, shit, three.” The boy responded around half a granola bar he’d found in the pantry, his trig homework spread out on the dining room table, a mad scramble to finish it before they had to drive to school.

He could do it in the car, of course, but riding with Ryo, no matter how many times he’d done it, wasn’t something he wanted to miss for math homework.

“Cheddar or monterey jack?” Ryo expertly cracked the eggs with one hand and stirred them in the bowl with a pair of chopsticks.

Akira only ate scrambled eggs. Didn’t like thinking about the yolk -- he’d mentioned years ago, when they were little kids, he was scared he was accidentally eating a baby chick, even if he knew it wasn’t the case.

“Cheddar, thanks.” Akira swore under his breath as he realized he’d left out an exponent in the equation, and had to go back three steps to fix it.

“I’d be more than happy to tutor you, Akira.” Ryo mused, sprinkling shaved cheddar onto the hissing eggs, quickly flipping and folding them up. Thick strips of hickory smoked bacon sizzled in the pan beside it, turned over every so often with another pair of chopsticks.

“...Hmm.”

Ryo dropped the crisped bacon onto the paper towel, until it was full. Half a grin plastered to his face, the toast popping up and eggs diced on a plate, he padded over to Akira, a piece of bacon between the chopsticks, and held it to the side of the boy’s face.

Akira suddenly perked up at the scent, and instinctively turned his head, mouth open, and was rewarded with the savory snack. He made a pleased noise, but it soon turned into a laugh, and he covered his mouth with a hand to keep from spitting it out on accident.

Ryo just snorted and walked back to finish up breakfast.

--

“Jeez, Ryo. You make this shit exactly how I like it.” Akira stared down at his plate, egg on toast sandwich cut diagonally, with bacon bits, cheddar, salt, and pepper mixed in. “You even fuckin’ cut up the eggs...” He ran a flustered hand through his hair, “Miki doesn’t even remember to scramble them half the time.”

Ryo just smiled indulgently at this new information. God, was he petty.

“I don’t forget the things you like, Akira.” He shrugged, and sipped at his coffee as he took a seat across the table from the boy.

Akira blinked, the quiet between them a heavy realization. The sandwich tasted a little better this time.

--

[BGM]

“Were you serious about tutoring me? Aren’t you like, super busy with whatever government hacking, Men In Black bullshit you do?” Akira leaned back in the passenger seat, hair whipping around his rosy cheeks as they sped down the highway, radio blasting -- they always lingered a few minutes too late when he spent the night.

“Akira, I don’t want you to fail your classes.” Ryo said firmly, reaching over to turn down the radio a bit, resting his arm on the gear shift.

His hand felt so fucking empty nowadays. So damn cold, fingers stiff. If he could will Akira to reach out -- what he wouldn’t give for that.
He swallowed thickly, and pushed his foot down a little harder.

“I won’t like...fail, just...” He mumbled, eyes flicking over to see Ryo driving one-handed. “...Won’t ace it, y’know?”

“Demon hunting isn’t bounty hunting, Akira. You don’t get paychecks for saving humanity from the supernatural.” The young man stated frostily, ice blue eyes staring straight out over the dashboard through maroon-tinted aviators. “As much as I hate to say it, you have to work for The Man one way or another.”

Akira grumbled loudly and squirmed in his seat, chewed nails worrying at his seatbelt.

“I already have an after-school job at the kennel down the road.” The boy argued, staring at his reflection in the side mirror.

“Fifteen hours a week won’t cut it when you have to move out, or find a real job--” Ryo abruptly straightened, “Unless…” He trailed off, brow furrowed.

“What?”

“I suppose I’m old enough to legally adopt you as your guardian.” The blonde thought aloud.

Akira spluttered, eyes bugging out.

“E-excuse me?!” He managed, blinking and shaking his head.

“Exactly. You’d hate that though, wouldn't you? You already feel like a burden to the Makimuras, I wouldn't want to make you feel any less independent.” Ryo sighed, slowing to take the next exit.

Akira stayed quiet. That wasn't his first concern. He was more worried about if he was adopted -- would that mean they were legally related? He only wanted Ryo as his best friend...not a brother or father figure, wanted to feel comfortable waking up next to him, wanted it to be natural and warm like it always was, wanted it to be--

He rubbed at ruddy cheeks and faced away as his thoughts jumbled together in a rush. What DID he want? He just wanted Ryo’s attention, right? But...what kind?

He swallowed dryly, not even noticing his school appearing over the horizon.

They slowed to a stop at the side of the school (Ryo wasn’t a fan of causing scenes with his Bel-Air), but Akira was still disassociating hard, staring a hole into his lap.

“Take these. You’ll be alright.” Maroon aviators were held out in front in front of his face. The boy blinked, taking them and sliding them on top of his head.

[BGM]

“...Thanks…” It felt inexplicably good to have a little part of Ryo with him in some way. He bit his lip and turned soft brown eyes on his best friend. Kind sky blue gazed back.

His breath caught in his throat as Ryo wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, the radio blaring in his ears, but nothing could drown out his pounding heart as lips pressed to his cheek. Lingered.

Akira bristled from toe to tuft, cheeks flushing rose red, but a nervous, giddy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Flustered, he turned to face his friend, breaking the soft kiss for something better -- a tight hug, fingers threaded in each other’s hair.

“Be good, idiot.” Ryo murmured, nothing in the world worth more than the feeling of that soft red shirt to his hands, knowing its warmth came from Akira. He squeezed the boy’s shoulder, in love with the sensation of having him in his arms, in love with his racing pulse, his shy smiles and brash words.

Akira wanted to stay forever like this, though it hurt to twist his body this way, though the way the seatbelt dug into him would leave red marks, it didn't even register in comparison to the overwhelming warmth that was Ryo, that was Ryo’s hushed chuckling, feather soft lips brushing behind his ear as they held one another, that was...Ryo.

The boy bit his lip, jagged canines pushing into now familiar scars, smile making his cheeks hurt and eyes squinch shut.

The bell began to toll, and like he’d been struck with a branding iron, he leapt out of the seat, fumbling like hell at the buckle and door. He nearly fell out, stumbling to regain his balance, heavy backpack straining on one shoulder.

Akira teetered before turning on a dime at the curb, face brighter than the morning sun.

“Thanks, asshole!” He laughed, biting his tongue teasingly. Ryo raised a brow and smirked back, casual as you please.

Then, an open mouth panic -- “Wait, I left Cottontail in your bed!” A look of childish worry crossed Akira’s face.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring him by after school, and we’ll trade, alright?” Ryo motioned to the shades atop Akira’s head with a pert salute.

The boy’s anxiety instantly faded and he smiled again, perking up.

“Deal!” Akira turned tail and booked it towards the front doors, a rabbit like spring in his step on that summer morning. “See you after school!” He called back, voice jumping an octave.

Ryo leaned back in his seat, hands shaking like hell as he ran them through his hair.

Fuck.

He bowed his head to the steering wheel, eyes closed, hiding a wide grin to himself, the beat of the music only half the speed of his throbbing heart.

Maybe Akira did know. Maybe they both knew. But feelings this good were nothing without the slow burn.

Ryo sat up and yanked the shift back into drive, singing under his breath as he pulled away, headed back home.

Until then, he'd play it poco a poco.

Step by step, little by little, he'd fall harder in love.