Work Text:
When Daisuke decided to visit Haru’s place uninvited on Friday night, with the intention of taking Haru out for dinner, he didn’t expect Haru to show up in front of the door with red, puffy eyes. As if the brunet been crying. No, not, the brunet probably did cry before Daisuke arrived.
“What do you want, Daisuke?” He asks, tone more accusing and harsher than usual. Daisuke is aware of how his voice is cracking and shaky. He’s also rubbing his reddened nose, and if Daisuke focused more on his eyes, he could see the remnants of tears on the corner of Haru’s eyes. Daisuke peeks a little over Haru’s shoulder, noting how the inside of the apartment is dark, despite it’s not time to sleep yet.
“Are you okay, Haru?”
Actually, that’s a stupid question. Haru is definitely not okay. Judging from Haru’s overall appearance and the darkness of his apartment, something must be wrong with Haru. He frowns in concern, putting one hand on Haru’s shoulder, which the latter immediately brushes away. Haru doesn’t answer Daisuke’s question, nor he pushes or shoos Daisuke away. They exchange glances for a few moments until Haru lets out a long sigh and moves away from the door so Daisuke could enter the hallway.
Once inside, Daisuke takes a quick look around him as Haru locks the door and prepares another slipper for Daisuke to use. The hallway’s lamp is on, but the living and dining area, including the kitchen, is dark. Haru’s bedroom too. The condition of the apartment only makes Daisuke more worried about Haru’s well-being. Add the fact that Haru was crying before this.
Daisuke last saw Haru on their work, about two hours ago. He has to admit that Haru was a bit more distant than usual and quieter. He’s also harsher and grumpier, snapping at Daisuke at every little thing. Daisuke got slightly pissed at first, though having being Haru’s partner for several months, he’s already used to Haru’s outbursts and not taking it to his heart. He assumed it had something to do with the most recent case. They accidentally stumbled upon a bank robbery. The negotiation failed, and the hostage was injured due to misfiring. The conflict was already resolved when Haru and Daisuke got closer, but Haru still got a good look at the injured hostage. Ever since that day, Daisuke felt Haru changed.
He knows about Haru’s past, about why he moved to Modern Crime Prevention Task Force from Division 1. Haru misfired, causing the target to be seriously injured. Daisuke also knows how Haru is still sensitive to that topic, which is why Daisuke never brought it up again. He's also being careful when treading on the thin line bordering the topic. What he doesn’t know is, how much Haru was affected by that incident.
“So? What do you want?” Haru calls for him, turning on the lights in his living and dining room. Daisuke can see Haru collecting the crumpled tissues scattered around his couch and throwing them away. “Honestly, I’m not in the mood to do anything.”
Well, Daisuke initially wanted to take Haru out for a dinner in the newest rooftop French & Italian restaurant. Daisuke finally managed to book a reservation for two after a week of being on a waiting list. Yet, seeing Haru like this… Daisuke is not that heartless to force Haru to the dinner. So he changed his decision last minute, asking HEUSC to cancel his reservation for tonight.
“I want to stay the night.” Daisuke joins him in the living room as Haru tidies up his work clothes from the floor. Haru pauses for a moment to inspect Daisuke from top to bottom, and he raises one eyebrow.
“Sleepover? Then where’s your overnight bag?”
Oops. Daisuke always brings an overnight bag for his clothing and toiletries if he intended to stay over at Haru’s. Since he didn’t plan to stay for the night, he didn’t bring his usual bag. Keeping his calm, Daisuke crosses the distance between him and Haru’s couch, plopping down on it (elegantly).
“I didn’t bring it.”
His partner hums in response, opening his fridge to retrieve two cans of cola. He gives one to Daisuke, then pops his own open.
“What about your pajamas?” The brunet sips on his cola, sitting beside Daisuke.
“Then I’ll just borrow yours.” He hears Haru chokes on his cola, spraying it all over the coffee table. Daisuke looks at the mess with mild disgust, while deep down he enjoys the sudden blush on Haru’s cheeks. Redness because of embarrassment looks better on Haru than the redness caused by crying.
Haru quickly wipes at the mess with several tissues, huffing and muttering under his breath about almost causing him a heart attack. Daisuke turns himself on his side, watching Haru tosses the crumpled tissues to his trash bin. He wants to ask Haru what’s wrong, why he was crying, and telling him that Daisuke is here if Haru wanted to talk. Daisuke assumed Haru was still affected by the robbery two days ago, as it reminded him of the mistake he made. But hey, he could be wrong. Haru could be crying because one of his favorites models got married or something.
Which is why Daisuke wants Haru to talk to him. If it was something Daisuke could do, he’ll help. With or without money. Daisuke wants to know what was bothering Haru so much that he cried and huddled inside his dark apartment. What was it that made Haru more distant and grumpier? Was it something Daisuke did? Did Daisuke said something wrong to Haru? Or was it Haru’s misfiring accident? Daisuke likes it a lot when Haru’s crying because of pleasure, but knowing Haru cried because of something and he’s unable to help him made Daisuke’s chest clenches painfully.
“Haru,” He reaches out to touch Haru’s shoulder, but Haru beats him to it by standing from the couch and heads towards his bedroom.
"I'll get you something to change," Haru says without looking at Daisuke, his tone firm, as he asked—no, ordered Daisuke to stay there.
Daisuke's hand retreats. He looks down on the hand on his lap, the gears inside him turning. He can faintly hear Haru shuffles around in his bedroom, opening his wardrobe and rummaging through his clothes. Right now, Daisuke has two choices. The first choice is to let Haru be, without Daisuke confronting him. And the second choice is to confront him right now, before Haru had another chance to run away from Daisuke. Daisuke is debating whether he should choose the first or the second one.
The first one means Daisuke would respect Haru’s choice to keep silent, though it also means Daisuke just let Haru wallows in whatever problem he has right now. While the second choice would give Daisuke a slight peace of mind and Haru might be able to resolve his problem, Daisuke is worried about crossing the lines. Haru could just get angrier at him. And yet, Daisuke couldn’t just stay silent when his partner is suffering. But will it be worth it? Should Daisuke risk his relationship with Haru to make the latter feel better?
The answer is?
Yes. Big yes. Daisuke treasures Haru a lot, without Haru even realizing it. If it’ll make Haru feel better, then Daisuke is willing to risk it.
He wastes no time in entering the bedroom, where he is greeted with Haru holding pajama pants and a soft T-shirt. Haru opens his mouth to ask, and shuts it again when Daisuke closes the gap between them and pins Haru to the wardrobe with both arms. Usually, Haru would protest and/or tries to push Daisuke away from him if the man didn’t pin him to a flat surface with sex in his intention. This time, Haru clutches the clothing to his chest, unconsciously creating a barrier between him and Daisuke. He glances at Daisuke’s face, then averts his eyes.
“What is it, Daisuke?” He asks meekly, lacking the usual bite he has in his voice. “I told you I’m not in the mood to do anything. That includes sex.”
“Haru,” Daisuke calls him again, voice even and deep. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
A hand on his chin coaxes Haru to look at Daisuke’s blue eyes. Daisuke stares at him with such intensity, enough to make Haru cowers and submits to him. He clutches the clothes tighter, feeling himself tremble a little. Not because Daisuke’s scaring him, no. It’s just… Daisuke looks so sincere in his eyes. His gesture might look dominating, so do his eyes and his voice. But Haru can feel it in him. Daisuke is asking him to open up, letting Haru knows that he is there for Haru if he ever needed it.
And that is actually something Haru really needs. A person to stay with him when his guilt catches up to him, reminding him about his failure. A person to listen to him when he’s crying, unable to hold it anymore.
Truth is, since the robbery they saw two days ago, Haru hadn’t been sleeping well. Every time he managed to fall asleep, he’d be woken up by the same nightmare that always leaves him breathless and shaking. He managed to keep the usual façade at work, busying himself with more works to distract him. It tires him, and combined with his lack of sleep, he becomes grumpier and snaps more easily. Haru is aware that in these two past days, he’s been treating Daisuke badly, and it just added more to his guilt.
That’s why, as soon as work was done, he immediately went home before he could burst into tears in public. Once he’s inside the safety of his own apartment, Haru’s tears broke. He lied there on his hallway, curled into a ball, and cried until he's wheezing. He could barely remember how long was he crying. All he could remember was Daisuke ringing the bell, and Haru never moved that fast in his life. He stripped off his clothes in the living room, using them to wipe his tears as much as he could, and changed into the closest clothes he could find.
Daisuke's presence in his room distracted him a little. He had managed to hold the dam for a while. Until Daisuke confronted him. Of course Daisuke would realize he’d been crying, Haru wasn’t exactly oblivious before.
“I-I…” He stammers, feeling the tears threatening to fall. Haru bites his bottom lip, willing himself not to cry.
‘Don’t cry, Haru. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not in front of Daisuke. No, don’t cry—’
Too late. Tears already streaming down his cheeks, and Haru cries. He doesn’t sob or sniffles at first, he goes straight breaking down and crying. More like bawling, with how loud he is. The clothes on his arms fall to the floor, and Haru clutches tightly on Daisuke’s lapels as he feels his legs going weak.
Daisuke is caught off-guard when Haru suddenly cries, but he’s quick to snap himself back to the present and holds on to Haru’s shoulders. Haru’s trembling hands are on his suit, and he carefully eases Haru to the bed before Haru could fall on the floor. It's a bit awkward maneuvering himself backward, though he's already familiar with Haru’s bedroom to know where his bed is positioned.
Haru trips on his own foot and they stumble to the bed, Haru on top of Daisuke with his face buried on Daisuke’s chest. Haru has always been a messy crier, and this time is no different. He continues bawling, dirtying Daisuke’s expensive suit with his tears and snots and saliva. He’ll have to apologize to Daisuke for it later, maybe pays for the laundry. But for now, he’s using Daisuke as his anchor. He needs to hold on to Daisuke, else he’ll crumble down. Haru feels Daisuke’s arms wrapped around his body, pulling him impossibly closer to Daisuke's chest as if they're not close enough already. One of his hands is across Haru’s shoulder blade, and the other is on the back of Haru’s head. Daisuke’s fingers slip between his light brown tresses, caressing him gently.
As Haru bawls his heart out, Daisuke is there with him. He holds Haru, letting himself being something Haru could hold on to. He could care less about his dirty clothes. Right now, Haru needs him the most, and he’ll be there for him whenever Haru needs him. Daisuke can feel Haru’s hands clutching on his back, nails scraping the material of his suit. Haru is always a strong person in Daisuke’s eyes. He holds himself high, passionate about his job, and willing to risk himself for others’ sake. And now, he looks so small and vulnerable within Daisuke’s embrace. Daisuke wants to protect Haru, to keep him safe from any harm, although he knows it better more than anyone else, Haru doesn’t need his protection.
He continues caressing Haru’s sweaty hair, pressing his lips on Haru’s crown. To be honest, Daisuke has no idea about how to comfort someone crying. He doesn’t know what kind of ‘sweet nothings’ he should whisper to Haru’s ear, or what kind of comforting gesture he should show to Haru. All he knows is to embrace Haru and let the other man cries. Daisuke also doesn’t know how long Haru has been keeping this to himself. How long has Haru cried alone in his apartment, without anyone to hold him? How long Haru have to act as if nothing happened and prevent himself from crying? How long Haru kept this inside himself? Daisuke probably will never know.
Just imagining them makes Daisuke’s chest clenches tightly again.
They stay like that for an unknown time, Haru crying to Daisuke’s chest and Daisuke embracing Haru. Eventually, Haru’s crying ceases down to weak sobs and sniffles, then quiets down, and his grips on Daisuke’s suit lessened. Daisuke lifts his head to check if Haru somehow cried himself to sleep. He’s not, Haru is still fully awake. Haru is just keeping his messy face away from Daisuke’s eyes. The brunet doesn’t want Daisuke to see his face post-crying. Haru knows how ugly he looks like after he’s crying. Red, puffy eyes, splotchy red cheeks, runny nose, and wet face from tears and snots.
Daisuke, however, shifts his body from beneath Haru so he could see Haru’s face better. Haru sputters and tries to hide his face away. Thankfully, Daisuke is faster right now and cups Haru’s face with both hands. Using the sleeve of his suit, Daisuke gently wipes away Haru’s tears and snots, a small smile on his face. The brunet pouts, but lets Daisuke does it until he’s satisfied. He definitely ruined Daisuke’s suit now. Haru couldn’t imagine the price he had to pay for that suit.
“Don’t look at me,” Haru mumbles to Daisuke’s neck, after Daisuke lets his face go. Both of Daisuke’s hands are now back to their previous position.
“Hm? Why not?”
“I look ugly after I cried.”
He hears a soft chuckle from above him.
“Well, you’re not wrong.”
“You—” There’s no use debating with Daisuke. He’s the one who said it first, after all. And Haru is just too tired to do anything else. “…whatever.”
There’s another silence between them until Haru speaks again.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Dirtying your suit. It must be expensive.”
Haru can’t see the slight mischievous smirk on Daisuke’s face from his position.
“Oh, it is expensive. You should pay for it.”
A groan and more grumbling.
“I don’t think my monthly salary is enough to pay for it.”
Daisuke hums. “You can pay with something else.”
Haru blushes for the nth time that night.
“Y-you—you pervert! Kanbe Daisuke, you pervert!” He rolls away from Daisuke’s top, curling into a ball with his back facing Daisuke. Haru can’t believe Daisuke sometimes. His libido is crazy. Not that Haru doesn’t enjoy it, no. Daisuke’s libido always leaves him satisfied and content, and so far Haru doesn’t think sex with anyone else except Daisuke will be as satisfying. Still, the same libido always leaves him exhausted.
The younger man lifts himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed and starts taking off his suit. Haru had done quite a mess on his suit. He should immediately send the suit to cleaning if he didn't want it to be ruined. He’ll borrow the clothing Haru has prepared for him.
Hearing the rustling of clothes behind him, Haru peeks over his shoulder to see Daisuke's back. Moving his eyes down the curve of Daisuke’s back, Haru’s eyes are pampered by the sight of Daisuke’s nice ass. Daisuke’s choice of underwear always makes his ass looks extra nice, very squeezable. For a moment, he half-curses Daisuke for being a sex beast with a high libido, and half-appreciating the sight.
Daisuke calmly walks to the wardrobe, fully aware of his partner’s eyes on his backside. He picks the clothes up from the floor and puts them on. The pants are a bit long on him, and slightly loose on the waist. The T-shirt looks old and slightly faded, but it’s soft and comfortable, smelling like Haru.
‘Oh,’ Haru thinks, blushing again and turns around to bundle his comforter to his face. ‘He’s just changing clothes. I guess I AM the pervert here…’
“Who says it has to be sex?” Daisuke sits back on the bed, picking up his previous clothing and begin folding them neatly. “I want something else.”
‘Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m the pervert one, you don’t have to rub it to me.’ Haru groans again, this time turning around to face Daisuke’s back.
“Then, what do you want?”
Placing his folded clothes on the bed, Daisuke faces Haru, bending down slightly. He has a smug smirk on his face.
“Let me buy you dinner.”
---OooOooO---
Inside the bathroom, Haru is splashing his face with cold water to clean the remnants of mess. And partly to feel more like himself again. The water makes him shiver a little, but it clears his foggy mind. Now he can think more clearly. Although his eyes are still so swollen that he needs to put a cold compress on them. Thankfully, it’s Friday. His colleague won’t have to worry about his eyes. He splashes some water on his hair and neck too. Haru feels a lot better after crying, as usual. He can't deny that having Daisuke there, holding him, and being his anchor definitely helped a lot.
Haru can hear Daisuke’s clam, unhurried steps, then the front door is open. Daisuke is talking to someone, probably one of his butlers to take Daisuke’s dirty suit to be cleaned. Daisuke is still waiting for Haru to finish his business in the bathroom before he orders their dinner. Haru already feels better, but he’s not sure about eating. Sure, his stomach is empty right now, and it's making all sorts of grumbling noises, wanting to be filled. It’s just, Haru doesn’t have the appetite to eat something.
(“You are going to buy me dinner?”
“Indeed.”
“Hell, no! You’re going to spend too much money on me if you bought me dinner!
“Dinner or paying my suit. Your choice, Haru.”
“…I guess I don’t have a choice after all…”
“There, you understand.”
“But I will decide what we’re going to eat.”
“…fine.”)
So, there’s that. Haru already decided beforehand that their dinner is going to be pizza. Pizza is cheap and even if he couldn’t finish all of them, he still can keep the leftovers in the fridge for tomorrow’s breakfast. At least, that’s what Haru thought.
Sadly, Haru underestimates the power of a general request. That’s where he went wrong with his request. He didn’t exactly specify to Daisuke what kind of pizza he wants, or which pizza chains, or how many boxes of pizza he wants. Thus, Daisuke being Daisuke, ordered authentic, traditional pizza from the fanciest Italian restaurant. How many boxes? Four fucking boxes. Daisuke reasoned that he didn’t know which pizza Haru likes, so he ordered all kind of pizza in the restaurant, to give Haru multiple choices. While his reasoning was sound, it didn’t stop Haru from smacking Daisuke with his pillow.
Oh, and that’s not even the worst. The worst part? The Italian restaurant wasn’t actually providing delivery service. Daisuke paid them thrice the number of his orders to have the pizzas delivered to Haru’s apartment. Daisuke received more pillow smacking from Haru for that.
Haru certainly doesn’t want Daisuke to spend his unlimited money on him, although the latter is probably capable of buying Haru a luxurious beach resort and his balance will remain unlimited. Daisuke has given so much for him, that Haru feels kind of embarrassed. He’s Daisuke’s friend, not Daisuke’s sugar baby. Daisuke doesn’t have to supply Haru with his money, as Haru gets a salary from his work. He's perfectly able to support himself without Daisuke’s help.
Toweling his face dry, Haru exits the bathroom to find Daisuke on his couch, switching channels to find something interesting. Daisuke had offered Haru monthly Netflix subscription, so Haru will have more content to watch. Paid by the Kanbe family, of course. Haru was quick to deny that offer since he rarely watches TV anyway. Haru flops down on the other side of the couch, eyeing Daisuke from the corner of his eyes.
“Daisuke?”
“Hmm?”
“Uhm, I…” A gulp. “I-I… thanks. For… for, you know… Staying with me.” Haru scratches his nape, making sure his face is partly covered by the towel. He's blushing really hard after he realized the events about twenty minutes ago. Crying in front of Daisuke, clinging to him like that, dirtying his suit, and being overall vulnerable. He’s thankful that Daisuke didn't choose to just walk away.
Daisuke scoots closer to Haru, a smirk on his face. Ohh, he’s planning something. He’s definitely planning something that would either piss Haru off or making Haru more flustered. In many ways.
“No problem,” Daisuke adds before Haru could say something again. “But I was expecting… something more than a ‘thanks’, actually…”
Haru’s towel is pulled away from his head, and Daisuke looms over the brunet in an intimidating, but also arousing way. His smirk grows wider.
‘Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me—’
“I thought this dinner is my payment?!” Haru tries to shy away from Daisuke’s advances, growing pale when he realizes he’s at the end of the couch. There’s nowhere to go.
“That was for my suit. I charge differently for the crying."
“I-I don’t have money!”
“Who says it has to be money, hmm?”
“KANBE FUCKING DAISUKE YOU FUCKING PERVERT!!”
.
.
.
When Daisuke goes out to pick the food from the delivery person twenty minutes later, he still has the same smirk on his face. It hurts a little to smile, though, thanks to his split lips and slightly bruised cheek. His body hurts a little too when he moves. There are going to be bruises on his torso tomorrow.
No, they didn’t have sex. Daisuke was only joking about it, as he loves seeing Haru’s flustered face when Daisuke teased him. Haru, however, thought Daisuke was being serious. The brunet kicked his chest before he could do anything. As if that wasn’t enough, Haru used all his strength to roll Daisuke off him, making the latter crashed to his coffee table, then fell to the floor. It hurt a lot.
Well, at least he got the chance to have Haru panicking and tending to his injuries while apologizing profusely, almost crying, even.
Definitely worth the pain and bruises.
‘If it’s for you, Haru, a little pain is fine. I’ll even buy the world for you. As long as you’re happy.’