Chapter Text
Haru’s never done this before, and the knife in his hand looks a little too sharp.
This isn’t exactly the same as cutting up mackerel.
“You've got to cut a circle around the top first, just – here, I’ll show you.”
Makoto’s smile is soft and sweet – as always – and Haruka does his best to ignore the way it makes his stomach flutter. It’s something that he’s become an expert at, but now that it’s just the two of them – now that they’re in Tokyo, together, without any of the familiarity of their old lives; without any of that shared locational history around to kick some sense into him – it’s becoming harder and harder.
Makoto is straight. Makoto is his best friend. Haru cannot fuck this up.
“Here, just – you literally just cut the top off and scoop out the guts.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“It’s worth it. We can fry up the seeds later, too.”
Makoto has done this, of course. He’s got younger siblings. Haru had never really bothered with Hallowe’en, despite the way Nagisa had shown up in costume every year. He’s just never seen the point of –
Makoto’s fingers are on his hand.
Haru’s pretty sure he’s blushing clean down his neck.
Hands over the knife and watches as Makoto starts carving through the top of the pumpkin. In the silence of his small apartment – they’re sitting on the floor, garbage bags underneath them – Haru feels like he can hear his own heartbeat.
God, why couldn't he have just gone on being oblivious. This is so much worse now that he finally gets why he can’t breathe around Makoto.
“Haru?”
Haru looks up. Realizes that Makoto’s nudged his pumpkin back to him. Stares down at it, and then picks up the giant spoon by his knee. He may have no idea what he’s doing, but it can’t be that hard. He’s managed to make a life out of swimming in Tokyo. Surely he can figure out how to gut a pumpkin. Starts in with the spoon as Makoto works on cutting through the top of the pumpkin, looking far too happy for someone who’s digging into a mess of pumpkin innards; and Haru really needs to just focus on what he’s doing, because Makoto is far too distracting, and –
Makoto’s practically always at his apartment, now, and – it’s Haru’s own apartment. His very own. He’s no longer living in the house he’d shared with his family. He has his own kitchen, now, and his own bathtub, and his one single bedroom, with the biggest bed he could fit; and every time Makoto’s around, puttering around the kitchen or watering Haru’s plants or doing homework on the living room floor, Haru feels like the place is too small, like there’s not enough air in the room, like he’s going to give himself away – but he never wants Makoto to leave, either.
He really never wants him to leave. He’d looked into that future, and it had been horrifying.
He’s not sure how he’d ever thought he could make it without Makoto.
Over a decade together, and Haru’s only finally realizing just how desperately he needs him.
It’s not a good thought. Makoto needs him too, maybe, but – not in the same way.
He was going to leave. For once, Haru was the one who ended up following.
Haru needs to not need him this much.
“Haru?”
Makoto’s not smiling anymore. Is frowning, even, the lid of his pumpkin sitting by his knee; and Haru’s becoming more and more grateful for his ability to conceal his own thoughts. He’s going to need it, for hopefully the rest of his life, because he can't ever lose this man – though his stomach’s a bit sick, suddenly. He’d rather have Makoto as his best friend than nothing, but the rest of his life is a long time to feel this way.
“Are you okay?”
And – yes, alright, maybe he’s not doing as good a job of hiding as he’d hoped.
“I –”
His throat’s tight. The air around him feels still. Makoto’s head is tilted, just the slightest bit.
“What’s wrong? If there’s anything –”
“Do you want to move in with me?”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Makoto’s mouth is hanging open.
Haru’s hands are on his knees. His lungs aren’t working. His fingers are covered in pumpkin.
He is such an idiot.
“Haru, I – I thought you wanted separate places.”
Haru shakes his head. He’d thought that Makoto wanted his own place. He’d thought – he’s still staring down at his messy hands. He’s going to give himself away. He’s going to ruin everything.
“Well, my lease is month-to-month. If you really want to leave here and find a place together –”
Haru wants him here. He likes it here. They should only need one bed, anyway. It’s not fair.
“– there are some decent two-bedrooms, close enough to the school.”
Makoto had been looking at two-bedroom apartments? When had he been –
“We can move as soon as your lease expires, if you’re serious –”
“I am.”
“Well, good. Only four months to go, then.”
It doesn’t help. If anything, it makes it worse. What has he done.
“Haru.”
And – why is Haru’s chest aching so badly. God, it hurts. Everything hurts. This is so stupid.
“What.”
But Makoto doesn’t say anything else. He’s waiting, Haru knows. He’s the only one who knows how to just wait. Haru should probably hate how well Makoto knows him. Doesn’t, though. Really doesn’t. Is never going to stop being grateful for it, actually. Never going to stop being grateful, too, that there are at least some parts of him that even Makoto hasn’t figured out yet. Though if they’re living together, just the two of them –
Haru is going to have to be so careful.
Hears Makoto’s phone buzz, from somewhere, but Makoto doesn’t move; and when Haru looks up, Makoto is all but beaming at him. Doesn’t look like any of the horrible things that Haru is feeling. Just – looks so happy. It’s one of his bigger smiles, and his eyes are bright, and his cheeks look a bit flushed; and maybe that’s enough. Maybe Haru can cling to Makoto’s happiness, and have it be enough for both of them.
Someday, Makoto’s going to get married and move out and have children and start a home.
For now, Haru needs to take whatever he can get, and just be grateful for it.
“You going to show me how to carve a face into this thing, or what?”
“Of course, Haru.”
And – Makoto’s still smiling at him, but it's gentled into something that looks horribly fond, and maybe even the teeniest little bit amused, as though he can see straight through Haru; and Haru does his best to glare back. It’s bad enough that Makoto still won’t drop the –chan. The last thing Haru needs is for Makoto to start looking at him like Haru’s done something cute. Haru’s pretty sure he won’t survive that.
“Scary or funny?”
“Scary.”
“Then we’ll make this the scariest pumpkin to ever grace the neighbourhood.”
His voice is soft, and his grin has settled back into that soft little smile that Haru – even after all the time – still isn’t used to having directed at him; and when Makoto scoots closer until their shoulders are bumping, with Haru’s pumpkin in front of both of them, Haru closes his eyes and – if he maybe possibly leans in a little bit closer, he’s just going to hope that Makoto doesn’t mind.
If this is what he can get, he’ll take it.
He’s gotten more of Makoto than anyone else ever has, and he needs to be grateful for that.