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Slipping out of bed, Haru pulled on the first article of clothing his fingers touched. It was still dark, but from the feeling, he knew he grabbed Makoto’s new plaid shirt. He slipped it on as he stretched, wrapping it around himself as he walked to the bathroom. Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered, but Makoto refused to turn the heat on, and it was still fairly chilly outside, especially in the early hours of the morning.
Returning to bed, he pulled the shirt even tighter around himself. It wasn’t as good as the orange shirt had been, but he’d get used to it.
The orange shirt was where it was supposed to be, back in Iwatobi in Makoto’s dresser reserved for nights when Haru forgot a change of clothes. But those days were no more, Haru realized, settling under the covers. It seemed that a lot had changed in their move to Tokyo, Makoto’s wardrobe being only a small part of it.
His mom had insisted on getting him new clothes, even though he resisted at first, saying his old clothes were fine. He had no chance in winning that battle. Haru had gone with on the shopping trip, for moral support, and was surprised when Makoto picked out things Haru had never imagined him wearing.
“I think it’s time for a style change, don’t you?” He had said with a smile, pulling a few shirts--including the plaid one--off of the rack.
In the end, Haru had chosen it. Makoto had asked him to pick from three, and he had pointed at the red one for no real reason at all, but he guessed it was only fitting that he had already started to claim it.
Makoto also wore his glasses more often after finally getting told off by his eye doctor, so to Haru, Makoto looked like an entirely different person for Tokyo, and Haru was the same as he always was.
He had learned soon enough that that wasn’t at all true. Makoto had been wearing that shirt when he sat Haru down a week after moving in and told him everything he had been thinking over the past few years. It ended with Makoto confessing in a flurry of jumbled words and blushing cheeks and apologies.
Haru had quickly silenced him, grabbing the front of the shirt and pulling him forward for a kiss, and telling him, with much less flair, that he completely returned his affections.
Since then, the shirt had somehow managed to be present for all of the major points in their new life. First date, Haru’s first competition, celebrating Makoto getting full points on his first test, month anniversary...The shirt was always there.
The most recent event was no exception. Makoto was still naked under the comforter, and Haru snuggled best he could back into his embrace. He was just warm enough with the shirt on, and fell asleep easily.
In the morning, Haru woke up to soft laughter and a kiss on the forehead.
“Hmm,” he grunted, blinking lazily to find Makoto leaning above him, a soft smile plastered on his face.
“I was wondering how long it would take to get you in that shirt.” He leaned closer, this time pressing a kiss to Haru’s lips.
Haru scowled. “You’ve been doing this on purpose.”
Makoto’s smile only grew bigger. “I knew you’d look great in it.”
He hadn’t really thought about anything other than getting warm, but he should have known. Makoto always had looked at him differently when he had borrowed the larger boy’s clothes, Haru just hadn’t ever taken much notice. “All you had to do was ask.”
“This was much more fun, though.”
“Whatever,” Haru said, pulling Makoto down by the neck. Yeah, he was wearing the shirt, but Makoto still wasn’t wearing anything at all.
Neither of them had anything important to do that day, anyway.