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Daisuke had been perfectly content to welcome the New Year with a homemade meal and alcohol in the comfort of Haru’s rental apartment, but he’d found himself ushered outside almost as soon as he stepped into the doorway. Haru had quickly relieved him of the insanely expensive sixty-year-old Macallan whiskey he’d secured at an auction, then herded him back out the door.
“Where are we going?”
All Daisuke received in reply was a grin as bright as the sun on a hot summer’s day and a warm hand that slid into his own. Haru’s smile was so infectious that Daisuke didn’t complain even as his plans for the evening were thwarted and he was led down the stairs and into the parking lot.
“Haru. Really, where are we going?” Daisuke asked in fond exasperation when they stopped in front of Haru’s car.
“Hold on,” his taupe haired lover responded distractedly while slipping his hands into his front pockets in search of his car keys. Instead of his keys, though, what Haru pulled out were a handful of candy wrappers and crumpled grocery receipts. Daisuke didn’t bother hiding his amused snort as Haru pouted and reached into his back pockets to try again. The delighted, “a-ha!” that Haru let out when he finally found what he’d been searching for held such childlike enthusiasm that Daisuke had to know what brought this on.
“I’ve never celebrated New Year’s abroad before, so I really want to see the ball drop in Times Square,” Haru said excitedly. In the light of the setting sun, the scintillating flecks of gold in Haru’s incandescent aureate eyes danced a mesmerizing choreography that left Daisuke momentarily stunned. He wondered idly if he should tell Haru how lovely he looked, but snapped himself out of his daze and issued a quiet command to his A.I. butler, “HEUSC, take a picture.”
Unaware of Daisuke’s actions, Haru jiggled his keys into the keyhole and chattered on, “It’s something to write home about, y’know?”
Having been brought up in a home that regularly celebrated, hosted, and attended large, lavish parties for all sorts of occasions - from typical festive holidays to the obscure birthday celebrations of one family’s exotic pet fish - Daisuke had been desensitized to their charm. He didn’t particularly care for the ball drop, but… he’d indulge it if meant Haru’s happiness.
“We should take my helicopter instead of your car,” Daisuke suggested. He carefully circled Haru’s wrist to slow his movements and draw his attention. When honey-colored orbs widened in surprise, Daisuke offered, “I’ve got permits to land the chopper in New York. HEUSC can run a check on which helipad near Times Square is free, too.”
Daisuke had hoped that the genuine tone he used would persuade the stubborn inspector to concede to his subtle request, but to his chagrin, Haru frowned and insisted, “Daisuke, no. It’s not counted if we’re not there to experience it on the ground.”
They engaged a silent staring competition with neither side yielding until Daisuke pursed his lips and sighed. It was probably his own fault for expecting any other answer from his bull-headed lover. Shaking his head imperceptibly, Daisuke advised, “Then let's at least take the subway. You’ll never find a spot for your car at this late hour.”
💴 🎇 🌸
Times Square was hell.
The station itself was hell, with Daisuke almost losing Haru to the crowd three times in the short span of five minutes since they’d alighted at the platform. “Don’t leave my side,” Daisuke growled as he grabbed Haru by the waist and secured his hold. He struggled to perceive HEUSC’s mechanical instructions to the nearest exit amidst all the noise and Haru’s shocked squawk at being manhandled.
When they finally escaped the congested underground station and stepped out into the square, Daisuke’s heart sank at the sheer number of people that milled about the streets, and at the dark, cloudless night sky. Defeated, he turned to his partner and, while squeezing tightly at Haru’s waist, muttered into his ear.
“What can you even see from over here?”
Just as Haru was about to deliver his comeback, a group of obnoxious, inebriated teenagers slammed straight into Haru’s shoulder and spilled what smelt like a mixture of rum and coke onto their clothes. “Aw, fuck, my drink! ‘M sorry, my dudes,” one slurred as the rest staggered off to wreak havoc elsewhere in a drunken stupor.
It was nothing short of a fucking miracle that Daisuke didn’t snap at the pesky teenagers – or Haru – out of spite. The mishap, though unintentional, killed any last bits of goodwill Daisuke had left in him, especially because their journey to get to Times Square had taken far more time than calculated, both by his own estimates, and by HEUSC’s. As the tantalizing thoughts of curry rice, aged whiskey, and Haru’s warm, homely apartment that they’d opted to forgo for the night flashed through his mind once more, Daisuke scowled moodily.
“You know,” Daisuke sighed irritably while shifting one end of his midnight green scarf aside for better access to the breast-pocket it hid. His gloved hand came away with a burgundy handkerchief which he paused to consider using for himself, but after a small moment of deliberation, he decided against it. Tossing the square-shaped cloth at Haru in the middle of the bustling street, Daisuke narrowed his eyes and glowered at his partner.
“We could have avoided all of this if you had just agreed to board my helicopter.”
It was the sheepish, apologetic smile on Haru’s face when he caught the handkerchief and wiped the front of Daisuke’s damp coat that quelled the angry monster within. Daisuke watched wordlessly as Haru used his pocket square to soak up the cloying, sticky liquid that seeped into his bespoke leather coat, even though, having taken the brunt of the force from the knock, and of the spilled drink, Haru himself was worse for wear.
The gestures – pacifying – from Haru not arguing, to him carefully cleaning Daisuke’s jacket, piqued Daisuke’s curiosity for how out–of–character it was. Taking hold of Haru’s wrist to pause his ministrations, Daisuke tipped the inspector’s chin upwards with a single finger and murmured, “What’s the real reason you’re so fixed on us being here?”
The veil of night did little to mask the crimson color creeping into Haru’s cheeks, and Daisuke smirked at how easily he’d caught his partner – a testament to how good at reading Haru he’d come to be. Though not yet well enough, it seemed, if his floored expression at Haru’s shy, slightly flustered confession was any indication.
“I wanted to kiss you with the fireworks going off overhead.”
… Amazing, Daisuke thought, as Haru averted his gaze and gently eased his hand out of Daisuke’s loose grasp. He continued to dab at Daisuke’s coat as though unbothered, but the tension that gathered in his shoulders betrayed his nerves and was as evident as day to Daisuke’s keenly trained eyes.
“You,” Daisuke breathed, astonished by the inconceivably hypnotic effect this one man had over his entire person. It was a good thing Haru didn’t yet know the extent of his influence – or control – over the billionaire, for that would surely mark the end of Daisuke’s ‘ice-cool’ reputation; Daisuke would, instead, carry a new status as a smitten, love-sick fool. Though Daisuke beckoned words to form in his mind, none left his lips as he stared at Haru’s face, transfixed.
But even if he did have anything to say, the uproarious, crescendo cheers starting around them would have drowned them out right away.
💴 🎇 🌸
“Ten!”
Haru flinched as the person to his right raised a fist and screamed the first number of the countdown.
“Nine!”
Daisuke had yet to recover from the unexpected revelation and was still regarding his partner as if he were an unsolvable puzzle.
“Eight!”
Hints of hurt and embarrassment at Daisuke’s lack of response dimmed the brilliant flames flickering within Haru’s gorgeously golden eyes.
“Seven!”
Desperation to eliminate his partner’s every anxiety spurred Daisuke into motion as he firmly bracketed Haru’s slender hips in his hands.
“Six!”
He took a step forward while tugging Haru towards him and shifted until they were virtually joined from hip to chest without a hair’s breadth separating them.
“Five!”
There was a small grimace on his face as, once again, his coat came into contact with the sugary substance, courtesy of Haru's still-soaked jacket, that his lover himself had just sponged off.
“Four!”
Even Haru, who had been chewing nervously on his bottom lip, burst into helpless laughter at the ridiculous nature of the situation.
“Three!”
It was as if time slowed down and the world fell away when Daisuke brushed Haru’s fawn-colored hair aside and rested his hand at the base of the inspector’s neck.
“Two!”
Daisuke would deny it if questioned, but he was secretly glad to wear the pair of shoes with the seven-centimeter insoles as he wet his lips in preparation and angled his face upwards.
“One!”
Unbridled joy burst forth in his chest as Haru mirrored the action and dipped his head into optimal position. Their lips met right before light-hearted greetings erupted from the million other individuals in the square.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”
💴 🎇 🌸
Though Haru generally limited their public displays of affection, Daisuke figured that this was the one rare time he could get away with taking such liberties as giving his lover a series of sensual, open-mouth kisses that involved tongue and lasted well into the later rounds of exploding fireworks, and a mischievous (and highly inappropriate) massage of his shapely butt while they rested their foreheads against each other’s and caught their breaths together.
“Oi,” Haru gasped breathlessly, scandalized by the lecherous act committed in the presence of so many – too many within their immediate vicinity. Yet, he made no move to draw away, or remove Daisuke’s roving hands.
“Is that really the first thing you’re saying to me in the New Year?” Daisuke teased, tilting his head to capture Haru’s lips in a languid kiss once more.
“And is that really the first thing you’re saying to me in the New Year?” Haru countered, nibbling softly at Daisuke’s mouth in retaliation.
He’s truly an enigma I’ll spend a lifetime trying to understand, Daisuke thought, as he broke away, tipped his head backward, and laughed like Haru had just told him the funniest joke in the world. When finally the last bout of laughter faded into quiet, hiccupping little chuckles, Daisuke stepped forward to rest his face in the crook of his partner’s neck and hold him close.
“I love you more than you could imagine, Haru. Here’s to a new year of making more memories with you.”