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Most days were completely normal, but today it felt like someone had massaged wasabi in his eyes and then proceeded to stick a pressure pump in the right side of his head and just keep pressing. Not to mention the horrible rolling feeling in his stomach and the constant near-burning sensation in the back of his throat.
Today was a migraine day.
Makoto hardly ever got them, but with the responsibilities of being captain of the swim club and his final year of high school approaching (which meant endless studying and tests and a near-impossible increase in his innate need to be the perfect example of a hardworking, well-rounded individual for his siblings), meant an exponential increase in stress.
Which had unfortunately led to one horrible incident (accident! —Makoto still couldn’t believe he’d let himself slip up so poorly) of passing out while diving off the starting block during warm-ups. Luckily, hitting the cold water woke him up immediately, but the sudden thrashing and gasping for air had everyone on the pool deck heading his direction and watching with worry as Haru slipped under the lane line and gently placed a hand on his friend’s back. Their worry only increased as Haru started helping Makoto out of the pool and helped him lie down nearby. Haru wouldn’t tell the rest of them, but when he’d touched Makoto, he’d been shuddering uncontrollably.
Ever since then, everyone had been keeping an eye on their green-eyed friend. And this morning had been particularly rough, to the point where Makoto had even given up on contacts, opting for his glasses instead. So Makoto took a seat in the shade, trying to be helpful to Gou with “managing.” But before long, he’d ended up slumped forward, glasses off, his head angled downward and the heels of his palms pressing into his eyes.
A cold hand on his shoulder caused him to look up, and the sudden intake of light was blinding. Using a hand to try and block out some of it, he found himself looking up at Haru.
“Go home, Makoto.”
Makoto tried to protest, but Haru quickly cut him off.
“Go to my house. It’ll be quiet.”
Makoto was silent as he mulled over Haru’s request (though Makoto could tell from the way Haru’s hand barely squeezed his should that it was more of a demand than a request). Ran and Ren would be home from school by now, and as much as they loved him, they could never keep quiet for long. He knew that even with his mother’s intervention, they would try and sneak into his room and keep him company. And right now, Makoto needed a quiet, dark room and some pain-reliever.
“Fine,” he started, wincing as Nagisa shouted at Rei and initiated a splashing contest. He really did need to leave before this headache got so bad that he couldn’t walk home. “I’ll be on the couch, so you don’t need to turn on the lights in there.”
The cold from Haru’s wet hand disappeared so Makoto slowly began to stand up. He carefully grabbed the towel at his feet, trying not to exacerbate the wooziness that was seeping through his brain, and turned to head towards the locker room to change.
“Take a bath,” came Haru’s quiet voice from behind him. Makoto let out a soft chuckle—of course water would be Haru’s final answer to fixing everything. “And just sleep in my room—you don’t need to use the couch.”
Makoto turned and smiled at his childhood friend. Though Makoto tried so hard to take care of all of his friends and family, he knew it was because he had learned from the best—Haru had an intrinsic sense for caring for his friends. Sometimes it was hard for him, but when it really mattered, he always came through.
//
The bath had turned out to be more difficult than Makoto had planned. The rush of water assaulted his senses and he found himself scrambling to shut off the loud noise. In his haste to turn it off, he had slipped and smacked his knees on the side of the tub, the resounding thud echoing through the room and sending a pulsing shot of pain from his legs straight into his head.
This day was quite possibly the worst.
Deciding to forgo the bath, Makoto shut off all the lights and headed into Haru’s room, taking his glasses off and crawling into bed. The room was dark and cool, the perfect silence easing the throbbing in his head. He concentrated on breathing in and out slowly, letting his body relax into the soft bed.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep on Haru’s bed. Sure, he sat on it pretty much every day, but any time he spent the night at Haru’s, they’d had to pull out the spare futon since Makoto was now much too big to share a bed.
It had probably been years. He couldn’t remember a time since before his growth spurt at the end of middle school when he’d slept on this bed. It was comforting though, and it felt almost like he was a child again.
With his eyes closed, and enveloped in the refreshing embrace of the chilled darkness, Makoto fell asleep.
//
The throbbing in his head was gone, but it still felt like something was pressing around the edges. Gentle and cool, and barely scratching at his scalp, Makoto awoke to find Haru tenderly massaging his head. Still groggy from sleep, but feeling infinitely better, he looked up at his friend and smiled.
“I stopped by your house and let your mom know that you were here. I actually have permission to make you mackerel.” Makoto laughed softly but didn’t move yet.
“Permission? Since when have you needed anyone’s permission to make mackerel, Haru-Chan?”
A slight increase in pressure conveyed Haru’s displeasure with the childish nickname, but it only felt even better for Makoto. A quiet groan and fluttered eyes from Makoto brought a glaze of rosy pink to Haru’s cheeks. He quickly looked up at his window and kept talking.
“Apparently there’s some kind of antioxidant in mackerel that’s good for relieving headaches… Not like you had to convince me that mackerel was good…” The last part was muttered so quietly that Makoto nearly didn’t hear it, but he caught the almost self-righteous tone of Haru’s speech.
Feeling more awake, Makoto laughed again and started to sit up. He loved taking care of his friends, but it made him uncomfortable when he was the one being taken care of.
Firm but kind hands kept him in place, leading him back down into a lying position. The confusion must have been evident on Makoto’s face because Haru—reticent, quiet, I’d-rather-swim-a-thousand-miles-than-talk, Haru—kept speaking.
“You need to let us take care of you sometimes. You’re not a burden. You are my friend, and I meant it when I said I appreciated you being there for me. Let me be there for you… You don’t have to keep doing this to yourself.”
Makoto felt ashamed and encouraged at the same time. He’d wanted to be so much for everyone, to be able to give continuously without expecting anything in return, but… He was only human. And the fainting spells, the horrible migraines, the unnecessary stress that he’d been placing on himself? It was just that—unnecessary.
“I’m sorry Haru… I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel like before I know it, I’ll be in college somewhere getting a degree I don’t want and living in apartment with some stranger who hates cats and working at a job that makes me miserable, with no friends, and, and…” A pulsing in his head warned him of an impending headache, so he took a deep breath. “God, it’s just all happening so fast, isn’t it?”
He looked up at Haru and was surprised to find that Haru’s hands had stopped, still firmly pressing against Makoto’s head, and that his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips slightly puckered in frustration.
“…You’ll always have me.”
When Haru said less, it always meant more.
Makoto sat up and pulled his best friend into a hug. The pounding in his chest was almost painful, but it burned through his body in a good way. All of his nerves were on fire and his torso shook as he tried not to cry. This was his best friend, and he loved him so much and—
Sand castles when he was 6.
Holding hands when they walked to elementary school for the first time, and on the first day of swim club when he’d been so nervous and so excited that his head hurt.
A comforting hand in his own when he watched a processional of strange men and women honoring the kind old fisherman he’d never see again.
Electric blue eyes that sent a swarm of butterflies straight to his gut.
The barest hint of an upturned lip that displayed happiness only he would catch.
Years and years of intimate friendship that had somehow grown to something more, right in front of him, without ever realizing it.
An erratic heartbeat, pressed right up against his own.
Makoto’s body stilled, but the pace of his heart only quickened. He pulled back, only to find vivid blue eyes staring right at him. The havoc this was wreaking on his heart could not be good for the headaches he’d been having.
“Thank you!” It was blurted out so suddenly (and awkwardly), that Makoto ducked his head in embarrassment. He had no idea how to convey his feelings (did he even want to do that?), and so the gratitude and love he had for his friend was relegated to an artless expression of gratefulness.
A quiet, stifled laugh brought his head right back up though. The stunted sound was let loose though as Haru looked at Makoto’s bewildered expression.
He really did resemble a puppy sometimes.
The gentle, happy laughter soothed Makoto’s heart and he started laughing as well. This was right. They were friends, and the newfound love he felt didn’t need to cause him any concern. Haru would always be there for him.
As their laughter died down, Haru pressed his forehead against Makoto’s, a barely-there smile shining from his upturned lips and eyes.
“I love you, Makoto.” The discreet declaration sank into Makoto’s soul like Haru sinking into water. “So, even if you can’t take care of yourself, I will.”
Lucky could not even begin to describe how Makoto felt.
“I love you too, Haru,” was all he could get out. The smile that made his cheeks burn and his eyes water (though, that may have been something else) made it difficult to speak anymore. But when Haru placed one of his hands on the side of Makoto’s face, he was instantly sobered. The beam softened until it mirrored Haru’s subtle smile.
Two smiles met, intertwining and multiplying happiness.
//
Neurolinguistics was an incredible field: incredibly stressful.
But Makoto loved his job, and he loved coming home every day and telling Haru about the research he’d done that day, and the progress (or lack thereof) that he and his coworkers made.
However, as interesting as his job was, and as much as he loved the challenge of learning how language is represented and processed in the brain, it was difficult. Which meant that Makoto got a lot of headaches.
He rarely got migraines anymore, but at thirty-four years old, he had a much better coping mechanism than pain-relievers.
“I’m home, Haru!” Makoto came through the front door of their home, removing his shoes and setting his workbag on a hook near the door. He gingerly massaged his temples, willing the pulsing in his head to stop—he just wanted to enjoy dinner with his husband tonight.
Haru’s head poked out of their office down the hall. They’d been busy the last few weeks trying to fill out paperwork to finally adopt a child. It was a tedious process, but Haru had been surprisingly diligent. Usually when Makoto came home from work (as his job required him to take a longer train than Haru’s did), Haru would greet him with a kiss and an update about the work they still needed to do.
“Go sit on the couch,” was the only greeting Makoto received today though.
Wearily, Makoto nodded and trudged to their couch, sitting down and rubbing his eyes. Haru came and sat down next to him, placing a fluffy pillow in his lap.
“Down,” Haru commanded, and Makoto sighed, smiling fondly at the dark-haired man. Placing his head in Haru’s lap, Makoto closed his eyes and waited.
Cool fingers massaged his head, relieving the pressure that had been building in his head all day. Short nails carefully scratched his scalp as Makoto yawned; if Haru wasn’t careful, Makoto would fall asleep right here and never get up.
As the pressure subsided, soft kisses floated around his temples, cheeks, and nose. While Haru was never one for public displays of affection (or any displays of affection, really), Makoto thought that Haru enjoyed these moments where he was caring for Makoto. The tender lips that ghosted over his face assuage his pain and echo the unwavering devotion they share.
Sure, Makoto could just take some aspirin when he’s at work, or on the train ride home, but what if he ran out? He couldn’t rely, and wouldn’t, on any medication. Besides, he would always have Haru.
He didn’t need anything else.