Work Text:
Haru always had a favorite.
It was a cute habit of Haru, Daisuke first noted when they went to a grocery store to buy strawberry milk before they get to work.
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1. His favorite strawberry milk.
He likes Sangaria—the one he takes out on the grocery store’s fridge. Daisuke liked the way Haru's eyes glimmered when he got the last bottle.
"Want it?" Haru shows it to him. Daisuke raises a brow. "You're staring at it."
"No." Daisuke waves nonchalantly. "You can drink it."
“Awesome.” Haru grins. That rare up-curl of his lips never failed to make Daisuke fall for him more. “Lucky, lucky.”
Daisuke contemplates asking if he should just buy Haru all the bottles of the strawberry milk in the world but... Haru wouldn’t agree to that. He was too good of a person to not accept his offers. And that’s probably one of Daisuke's favorite characteristics about him.
Strawberry milk wasn't Daisuke's all-time favorite drink, but if it would make Haru smile at him in the morning, then it might as well be.
2. His favorite chocolate.
Daisuke never knew that Haru had such a sweet tooth. He can excuse the strawberry milk, but Haru is actually quite fond of sweets. It’s probably the influence of the sugar addict in the office with her constant feeding of gummies to Haru, however, what Haru wants is actually a small box of chocolate—the brand being Meiji Apollo.
Of course, it’s also strawberry.
"Kambe," Haru calls out, holding the small box. “Open your hand.”
Daisuke did as he was told and in his palm lands three small cone-shaped sweets. He eats it all in one go—instantly regretting it, though, since it was too sweet for his taste.
“Is it good?”
“Yes.” Daisuke lies.
“Well, if you want more, just ask me.” Haru smiles, as sweet as the chocolate. Daisuke did the same. Maybe sacrificing his taste buds was worth it. Oh, and buying the whole chocolate brand, as well.
3. His favorite color.
It was no surprise when Haru admitted his favorite color was brown. It was easy to guess, judging by his preference of keeping his brown coat even though Daisuke deemed it as... unattractive at first. Seriously, Haru looks better with other clothing, but for some reason, Haru always chose to keep his coat rather than the most expensive tailored suits.
So, naturally, Daisuke learned to love the jacket and the color—it was a gradual process, but he somehow managed to do it—that even the little things like his brown coffee in the morning, his brown leather shoes, his brown wooden table, make him remember a certain detective and how he treasured his coat.
4. His favorite flower.
When the season transitions to spring, Haru would bloom in joy as he runs up to a sakura tree, where cherry blossoms lined its branches and flutter along with the breeze. “It’s beautiful!” he exclaims, spreading his arms.
Daisuke follows him, staring at the outline of his back. You’re beautiful... His words go unsaid.
5. His favorite animal.
It wasn’t an isolated incident when a stray cat would sneak by the MCPTF’s office. The first time it happened, it was a calico cat and the second was a white one with heterochromatic eyes, and the latest was a black cat that was playing with Haru right now.
It rubs its head on Haru’s leg, purring softly. Haru picks it up, and with curious eyes, he asks, “Where did you come from?”
The cat meows in response.
“I thought you were a dog person,” Daisuke says, pausing from his work.
Haru looks at him. “Nah.” and his gaze returns back to the cat. "I like cats better, I guess. They’re my favorite.”
Well, good news for Daisuke, then.
Marry me...
6. His favorite hobby.
Haru was immensely skilled at most things. He was an all-around guy who has the looks and abilities to win Daisuke’s heart in just a few months. Haru wouldn’t have done it, though, if Daisuke didn’t get to taste his dishes.
Haru’s food was incomparable to any dish he ever had. Granted, it was simple, but hell was it good. Daisuke can write a whole essay with a thousand words or more just to describe how good it tasted and why Haru is husband material. And Daisuke doesn’t even like writing essays.
Damn Haru and his amazing food...
The statement, “A way through a man’s heart is through his stomach.” was truth after all.
7. His favorite day and favorite person.
Daisuke stood at the corner, outside of Haru’s dressing room in his black suit, gripping a bouquet of red flowers. Today was the big day and he just had to wish that he could keep his emotions at bay for the rest of the day. Or the days after that. Every minute that passed was suffocating.
May 2. The wedding. Haru’s birthday.
His favorite day.
Daisuke can’t believe it. Time flew by and it was already a year. It was like minutes ago when he first met Haru on the bridge, the memory still fresh in his mind.
When he eyes the red roses, the door creaks open. Daisuke turns his head and he stills.
Haru dons a white, pristine suit, wearing a smile. His hair was parted, making his golden eyes and soft features stand out. “Hey.”
God, he looked so perfect. Daisuke can’t even find his words.
The grip on the bouquet grows tighter, much like the grip on Daisuke's chest. “... You’re done.”
“Yeah.” Haru inches closer to him. Don't come close. “Daisuke.”
Don’t call my name like that. “Haru?”
“Thanks for coming to my wedding.”
Fuck... Haru’s warm words stung. His happy smile hurts.
No. Daisuke won’t cry. He can do this. He’s prepared for this, right?
He went over it already, telling himself that, from the start, he shouldn't have fallen victim to Haru.
Haru loves someone else. He already had a favorite ever since the beginning.
"No problem.” Daisuke refused to say it loudly. He knows his voice would crack if he did.
Is this what it feels like to be torn apart?
Haru’s phone rings from his pocket and he takes it out. “Suzue?”
"Katou-sama, your bride is ready,” she chimes. “I can’t wait for you to see her.”
Haru’s favorite person was ready.
“I’ll see you guys there, then.” Haru’s smile widens. Daisuke wished he can do the same. “Let’s go, Daisuke.” Haru starts to walk away and Daisuke's eyes go from his back to the flowers in his hand.
"God..." Daisuke smiled, pained. Forced. He closed his eyes, bitter smile disappearing as he grits his teeth and cards a hand through his black bangs. “I wish I was your favorite...”
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Haru always had a favorite.
But it hurts to know that he wasn't one of them.