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Haru tightened the strings of his apron behind his back. It was an average evening – he could hear a few cars zoom past outside, the occasional cry of the baby next door, the grumbling of his washing machine, and the sizzling of a pot of soup on top of a low flame.
He also heard the click of a door opening behind him.
“I’m astounded every time I open your closet.”
Haru turned around to be met with the sight of Daisuke in his old, plain pink sweater and polka dotted pyjama pants. The clothes, as usual, were a tad too big on him.
“Cute,” Haru thought, but didn’t say it. Instead, he raised an eyebrow.
“Why do you always have something to say about my clothes?”
“They’re rather childish.”
“And yet you never bring your own pyjamas over.”
“Yes, I don’t,” Daisuke concluded, as if he had just won the argument. Haru rolled his eyes, his lips curving into a small smile.
Haru stirred the soup one last time, before turning the stove off. He suddenly felt the weight of Daisuke’s head on his shoulder.
“I’ll get the bowls and spoons,” Daisuke said, monotone. Haru hummed in response. He didn’t think much of how Daisuke lingered in the touch just a bit longer than necessary.
It had barely been a month since the two officially started dating (though Shinnosuke would tell you that he’d felt like a third wheel for atleast a year).
Their first kiss had been at the rooftop of their office, where Haru often followed Daisuke to during the latter’s smoke breaks. Abrupt and passionate- it was the culmination of months of pent up feelings and desires. Starting with a conversation about nothing in particular, their faces just a few inches too close, it led to Haru’s hand desperately grabbing Daisuke’s tie in thoughtless haste, the younger man’s joints pressing up against the railing, cigar hanging loosely from his fingers.
10 minutes of pure release.
….Which led to 5 whole days of Haru moping around, unable to handle that he’d supposedly forced himself on his colleague (despite Daisuke’s repeated attempts at trying to convince him that he had definitely not).
All it took was for them to have a simple, mature, face-to-face conversation about what happened at the rooftop, for the confessions to come rolling out from both ends. (Daisuke, however, would let the embarrassingly desperate methods he used to get him to cooperate unsaid).
Today was the first time since the whole fiasco that Daisuke stayed over at Haru’s place.
It was an odd feeling for Haru. Daisuke had stayed over enough times to warrant the need for his own toothbrush at Haru’s apartment (and a first aid box, after Daisuke’s many failed attempts at chopping vegetables unscathed). However, this time was obviously different.
He hadn’t dated anyone since college, which meant that it had been 8 years since he had felt the same kind of warmth and excitement that he felt at the moment. Though, he didn’t think he’d ever felt this way to this degree with any of his exes. Being next to Daisuke felt more… special. Haru sighed, not bothering to correct the stupid grin he had on his face.
“What did you make?” Daisuke’s voice shook him out of his daydream. He was pressing his arm against him again. Not that Haru was complaining.
“Oh, minestrone soup,” Haru replied, walking to the table and setting the pot down, before sitting. “Though I’m not sure how faithful this recipe is to the original Italian dish- it’s just something my mom made for us when we were bored of the usual stuff.” They put their hands together before eating.
Daisuke took a little sip. “Yeah, it’s tastes different from what I had in Italy.”
“Is that so? Well, atleast it’s edible.”
“This tastes better.”
Haru looked up from his bowl, his face turned slightly red at the blunt comment. Hopefully the steam covered his own face like it did Daisuke’s.
“Poor Italian chef didn’t go to culinary school to get insulted like this,” Haru chuckled.
“Your cooking is perfect to me.”
Haru focused his eyes back onto his soup, embarrassed. Little bastard. How he managed to say things like that out of the blue, with a straight face, was beyond him.
The room went from comfortable silence, to occasional discussion about the case they had taken up together, and then to Haru nostalgically narrating a story about working with Hoshino, many years ago.
“-and thankfully, the girl thought the whole thing was funny, so Hoshino and I didn’t get in trouble.”
“Did you ever date Hoshino Ryo?”
Haru blinked. That was not the response he was expecting to a story about falling into a river with Hoshino during a chase, accidentally roping in a random highschool girl with them.
“No, we were just work partners,” Haru replied. “And friends, I think.”
“I apologize, that question was inappropriate.” Daisuke laid his spoon down, and joint his hands together. “Thank you for the food.”
Haru eyed the man weirdly as he made his way to the sink with his bowl.
“I’ve only dated 2 people before. Both women from college. They were pretty shortlived.”
Daisuke turned the tap on. “I see.” Unsurprisingly, his expression rested unchanged, leaving Haru to wonder if he secretly wanted more of a reaction out of him.
He, however, did notice Daisuke’s body turn away slightly from his own.
“Daisuke.”
“Hm?”
“I’ll wipe the dishes.”
“Hm.”
“Daisuke.”
“Hm?”
Noises from outside filled up the room again. Daisuke’s eyebrow twitched.
“What is it?”
“Look here.”
Haru wrapped his arms over the shorter man’s shoulders. “I’m… really happy right now,” he confessed. “Thank you chasing me down and not letting me run away from this. Admittedly, I was really surprised when I saw you sat sleeping outside my apartmen-” A hand covered his mouth.
“I do not remember.” Daisuke’s pointed glare made Haru laugh.
“Right, I was surprised when absolutely nothing happened that day,” he joked, bringing his forehead to Daisuke’s. “But I’m really happy to be dating you.”
Daisuke’s glare softened momentarily, before morphing into something slightly more mischievous. He brought his hands upto Haru’s hips and nudged him towards the counter. Grabbing his shirt, he pulled him, crashing their lips together.
Haru leaned back, letting Daisuke take control over him. (His right arm blindly reached out for the tap, trying to turn it till it seemed to stop)
With Daisuke’s knee in between his legs and Daisuke’s left arm under his lower back to guard him from the pointed edge of the counter, Haru felt himself grow weaker and weaker under his onslaught.
His mind went hazy, his words devolving into soft moans and groans of Daisuke’s name.
He felt Daisuke’s arm shuffle around, before feeling his fingers grapple at his collar buttons. Haru broke apart from the kiss, panting.
“Oi, not today. We have work earlier than usual tomorrow, remember?”
Daisuke clicked his tongue. Haru slowly pushed Daisuke as his back straightened, and cupped his cheeks.
“Let’s clean everything up and go to sleep.” He heard Daisuke’s disappointed hum in response.
They laid down next to each other on a futon that was definitely not meant to accommodate two grown men; another purchase made by Haru for Daisuke’s sleepovers, as sleeping in the bathtub was definitely not a viable option in the long run.
The room would have been pitch dark, if not for the streetlights gleaming through the open curtains. Haru turned his head to see Daisuke’s, shining softly with his eyes focused on the ceiling.
He looked up at the ceiling as well, as he slowly interlaced his fingers with Daisuke’s. He thought he felt Daisuke flinch momentarily under his touch, but he dismissed the thought.
“Daisuke.”
“Hm?”
Haru snuggled in closer and let out a deep breathe against his neck. Surely he didn’t imagine Daisuke’s shiver this time.
“Nothing.”
“That was pointless, Katou.”
Silence.
“That was pointless, Haru.”
“Ah, so the silent treatment works on you.”
Haru could see Daisuke’s lips curve up from the corner of his eyes. A rare, beautiful occurrence. He pecked the ravenettes neck, earning him a little jab to the stomach.
“Ow, what was that for?”
“You’re the one who said we have to wake up early tomorrow,” Daisuke replied curtly. “Sorry, did that actually hurt?” he added, feebly.
“It didn’t. And I’m just kissing my boyfriend goodnight, don’t try to stop me.” Haru rolled over Daisuke, kissing his forehead.
There it was again, the little flinch.
A kiss on the ear. He shifted again.
A kiss on the chin. Another twitch.
Haru’s mind started to wander.
He thought about all the times they’d spent together during that month; Daisuke randomly pushing him against surfaces when they were alone, fooling around in their cars, in the office after work hours (much to his guilt), in a hotel room one time. It was always outbursts, their way to make up for lost time. They had always....
“You stopped,” Daisuke stated, looking at the man on top of him.
“What, do you like it that much?” Haru grinned. “Young master wants me to keep going?”
Daisuke almost opened his mouth in retaliation.
Almost.
Except Haru pressed his lips against his.
But this time was different from what they usually shared. It was soft and innocent, their lips being barely parted. There was no quivering, and Haru’s hands gently rubbed Daisuke’s cheeks. When he released his lips, he was already diving back, showering his lips with shorter kisses.
“Haru, stop-”
Haru jolted back out of surprise at the younger man’s unusual discomposure.
“Daisuke? What’s wr-”
Under him, Haru saw Daisuke quickly cover his face. Despite the lack of light, the way his skin was flushed was as clear as day. His eyebrows were scrunched together, but he wasn’t exactly frowning. It was an unimaginable expression on the Kambe Daisuke, one that Haru was unfamiliar with.
“You- are you embarrassed?”
“Shut it, Katou. I’m just taking time to get myself used to this.”
Haru gave his detective self a silent pat on the back for figuring it out. He was always so intense, but surprisingly, it turned out that Daisuke was a man who had never been exposed to this kind of intimacy before. Especially not from a lover. And he was craving it.
“Get used to what?” he replied, feigning ignorance.
Daisuke grumbled, skin flushing further. “This whole… thing you just did. I don’t get it.”
Haru rested his cheek on Daisuke’s chest innocently. “You don’t want me to do it?”
“NO!” Daisuke’s reply came, a little more eager than he’d like probably like to let on. “…I don’t hate it.”
Haru leaned in, kissing Daisuke once more. This time, Daisuke hugged Haru back, melting into the action. “Have you done this with anyone other than me?”
They looked straight into each other’s eyes. “I don’t remember what happened 8 years ago, Daisuke. But I don’t think I’ve ever found someone so cute-”
Another jab to the stomach.
“Cute is an awkward descriptor for a 28 year old man, Katou.”
“Katou is an awkward way to call your boyfriend who wants you to call him Haru, Daisuke.”
“Your comebacks are horrible.”
Haru’s grin rivalled the bright streetlight right outside. Daisuke chuckled.
(Sadly, it didn’t take long for the man to get accustomed to Haru’s advances, and the latter found himself missing the face that he got to see that night. Guess it was time for Detective Haru Katou to figure another way to make it happen.)