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Sometimes, when he thinks hard enough, Yuki can still remember the first time that he said it.
It’s an almost distant memory, since it’s been covered by thousands of times that he’s said it since then, but when he thinks back on it, he can remember it clearly. He remembers the soft back and forth whispering, the anxiety that pressed at his throat, and each and every time his heart somehow managed to stop entirely.
Love has done some strange things to him.
He’s learned to accept it.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me,” Is what he says one day, his gaze fixated upon the window and his words a mere mumble. They were meant to stay in his head, away from the rest of the world, but they had already tumbled forth from his lips, and there was no going back.
“Hmm?” He hears a hum that’s filled to the brim with confusion, and he doesn’t have to turn his gaze away from the rain that’s pounding down outside to know that the source of it is Haru. He’s the only other one in the room, and the only other person that those words could ever be directed towards. His heart clenches a little with every little pat he hears as Haru pads over to him, sitting on the windowsill beside him and leaning close.
“I’m doing something to you?” He asks, and there’s a frown on his lips that makes guilt swell up in Yuki’s chest. “What am I doing? I don’t want to do anything to Yuki.”
Yuki’s gaze quickly flicks back to the window, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and hugging them close.
“Nothing,” He mumbles into his knees, trying to curl himself into an even smaller ball, hoping that maybe he’ll disappear eventually. “You’re not doing anything. I didn’t say anything. Don’t worry.”
But he should have known better than to think that Haru would give up that easily. He hears him whine, and he scoots a little closer, prying Yuki’s hands off his legs and intertwining their fingers together.
“That’s not what you said!” He insists. “You said I was doing something to you! Am I making you sick? I don’t want Yuki to be sick! Tell me what I’m doing wrong!”
“I said,” Yuki interrupts, his voice suddenly firm. “That you weren’t doing anything. Just let it go.”
But Haru doesn’t. He leans in even closer, so their faces are inches apart, and stares at him, his lips pulled down in a determined frown and his eyebrows knitted with worry.
“I know you’re lying,” He says, his voice quiet and just as firm as Yuki’s had been. “Yuki doesn’t look at me when he lies. I’m doing something to you, like you said. What am I doing? What’s wrong with Yuki?”
He realizes suddenly that he’s been worrying him, and the guilt makes a sudden reappearance. He stares at Haru for a moment, before sighing, and squeezing his hands gently.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Yuki mumbles, resting his chin on his knees.
Haru frowns a little, and leans away.
“Then explain it to me!” He chirps, staring intently into Yuki’s eyes. “Yuki’s explained a lot of things to me! Like rain, and kotatsus, and sick, and lots of other things. You can explain this, too!”
“This is harder to explain,” He says, sighing gently. “I don’t think you’d understand.”
“Yuki can do it. You just have to try harder, right?”
“I said I don’t want to, Haru.”
“But if Yuki just—“
“I said I’m not!” Yuki bursts out, and his voice has risen to a yell. He wrenches his hands away from Haru’s grip, and wraps his arms around his torso, curling into an even smaller ball than before. “I’m not explaining this to you! You wouldn’t get it! You don’t get feelings! You never did, and you’re never going to!”
Yuki sucks in a deep breath, and when he speaks again, his voice is much, much quieter.
“And I’d be stupid,” He whispers, his voice suddenly shaky. “To think that you ever will.”
Haru is silent after that. Yuki knows he shouldn’t yell at him like that — it never makes much of a difference — but what’s done is done. Haru scoots to the other side of the windowsill, crossing his legs over each other and folding his hands in his lap. He stares out the window for a moment, glancing at the rain, before smiling gently.
“Yuki has been doing things to me, too,” He says, and he smiles when he hears Yuki lift his head from his legs. “They’re not things I understand. I’ve never had these things before. If I tell Yuki, can he explain them to me?”
And Haru glances at him, not even having to see him nod to know that the answer is yes.
“I get this weird feeling, down here,” He says, pointing to his lower abdomen. “When I see Yuki, sometimes. Like when I see him smile, or see him laugh, or see him asleep and happy. Seeing Yuki happy makes me happy. It makes me smile, and makes my heart beat a lot faster, and go—“
“A mile a minute,” Yuki interrupts, his voice a mumble. “It makes your heart go a mile a minute.”
Haru nods.
“Yeah, yeah! Like that!” He smiles, but soon tilts his head in confusion. “But… how does Yuki know that? Does he get the same feeling?”
Yuki is silent for a moment, but slowly, he manages to nod.
“Yeah,” He says. “Yeah, I… I feel it, too.”
Haru’s face lights up.
“Really?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. “Then does Yuki know what this feeling is?”
Yuki hesitates even more, but nods again.
“What is it, then?”
Yuki’s legs slowly drop from his chest, and he does the last thing Haru would have expected. He slowly crawls over to him, sitting right in front of him, inches away from him, and looking right into his eyes.
“Love,” Yuki says suddenly. “This feeling, it’s… it’s called love.”
Haru tilts his head.
“Love? What’s love?”
“Um,” Is all Yuki says, for he doesn’t really know how to explain that. Is there a way to explain that? If there is, he isn’t sure. “It’s when… it’s when two people make each other happy. So happy that — that they want to spend the rest of their lives together, sometimes.”
Haru blinks, but a smile quickly spreads across his face.
“I make Yuki happy?” He asks, his voice filled with such an overwhelming amount of hope that Yuki can’t help but smile a little, albeit nervously.
“Yeah,” He admits. “You… you make me happy. You make me really happy.”
Haru is quite obviously satisfied with this fact.
“Love,” He mumbles to himself, as if testing how the word sounds on lips.
“Love,” Yuki confirms.
“What do people do, when they’re in love? How do they show it?”
Haru’s words were spoken innocently — unknowing of the fire they were igniting in his heart.
“Um,” Is all Yuki says at first, his mouth suddenly too dry to form any other sounds. “Well, they, um — they do a lot of things. Kissing is the main one.”
“Kissing?” The word is foreign on Haru’s lips, and he tilts his head as he says it. “What’s kissing?”
Damn this boy. Damn him and his ignorance, and his innocence, and his never-ending flow of embarrassing questions. Yuki swallows thickly, his hands squeezing Haru’s even tighter.
“Kissing,” He chokes out, his voice sounding more like a squeak. “It’s, um — it’s when people, uh — they press their lips together.”
The last part is mumbled quickly, but Haru hears it anyways. His eyebrows knit together, but he seems to understand it partly.
“Really?” He questions, a pout tugging at his lips. “Why do they do that?”
“I don’t know,” Yuki says, dropping his gaze down to his feet. “They just do. I guess it’s their way of saying that they love each other.”
And then there is silence. Haru seems to be unable to comprehend, and says nothing. The silence claws at his very heart and soul for the long moments it lasts, and just when it gets to be unbearable, it is broken.
“Can I kiss you?”
Yuki goes perfectly still when he hears this, his heart managing to somehow skip a beat. When he glances up, he sees that Haru’s face is mere centimeters away from his own — his wondrous eyes staring into his own with an overwhelming amount of curiosity. The close proximity is enough to make his heart start pounding in his chest, and he swallows back the utter fear that’s building up in his throat, trying his hardest to respond.
“If it makes you happy,” Is all he says, his voice a mere whisper. Haru leans in a little more, almost brushing their lips together, but he speaks before he does anything else.
“It would,” He whispers back, a smile pulling at his lips. “But I want to make Yuki happy, too.”
Yuki’s breath catches in his throat. Would that make him happy? Would kissing Haru make him happy? He thinks it might. He knows that being like this is making him happy — being this close to him, with his hands intertwined with his own, with his lips so unbearably close to his own, just begging for him to close the gap between them…
“Yes,” He says, the answer finding its way to his lips before it even registers in his mind. “Yes, that would… that would make me happy. If you… if you kissed me.”
Haru’s eyes light up, but Yuki is barely even able to catch sight of them before they flutter shut, and he closes the gap between them, making their lips press together in the gentlest and most intimate way possible. The kiss is sweet, but hesitant — Yuki is still frozen in place and unable to kiss back, and Haru doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing. When Haru finally pulls back, he blinks, and then frowns.
“You didn’t kiss back,” He says, pouting. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Yuki reassures instantly, clearing his throat. “No, no, I just… I’ve never… kissed anyone before. That’s all.”
Haru blinks once, before laughing, and squeezing Yuki’s hands gently.
“You’ve kissed me!” He says, smiling a little more. “Here, I’ll do it again. Kiss me back this time, okay? You said you love me. Now prove it!”
And before he can even respond, Haru’s lips are upon his own, but it is deeper this time. This time, there is no hesitance on Haru’s part, and he can feel his fading as well. Tentatively, he presses his lips further against Haru’s, feeling his stomach do a flip when Haru smiles against his lips. Instinct is quick to take over him, and he gives a sudden press of pressure against Haru’s lips, and it takes a lot to keep himself from smirking when he hears him gasp. He takes this opportunity to deepen the kiss even further, to which Haru happily obliges to — his hands letting go of Yuki’s and moving up to tangle themselves in Yuki’s mess of hair. Haru presses against him with such a force that he falls back onto the windowsill, but Yuki can’t bring himself to care.
Eventually, when his air runs out, Yuki pulls his lips back, and he has to hold Haru by the shoulders to keep him from pressing kiss after kiss to his lips.
“Hmm?” Haru hums, flicking his eyes open and looking up at Yuki. “Why’d you stop?”
In between ragged pants for air, Yuki explains; “I can’t breathe when I kiss you. I have to stop so I can.”
Haru appears to only understand halfway, but nods, and resorts to merely resting his head against Yuki’s chest, pressing a kiss to his jawline. Yuki smiles at that, but shifts his head in retaliation, anyways.
“All right, all right,” He mumbles, gently kissing the top of Haru’s head. “That’s enough for today. I’m tired now.”
Haru giggles softly, and nods, keeping himself giving Yuki any more kisses. He resorts to simply glancing up at him, smiling at the mere sight of Yuki right there with him and smiling. The funny feeling returns to his stomach, but today, he can distinguish it — love.
Love for what, he isn’t sure. It’s love for Yuki, without a doubt, but he isn’t sure why some things give him the funny feeling and some don’t. Maybe it’s just love for certain things — love for Yuki’s laugh, for his smile, for his happiness. Love for every part of Yuki, even if he doesn’t realize it at first.
“Love,” Haru mumbles, nuzzling his head against Yuki’s chest. Yuki smiles slightly, brushing a few stray pieces of hair behind Haru’s ear.
“Love,” Yuki confirms, leaning his head back against the windowsill.
“I love you, Yuki.”
“I love you too, Haru.”
This, he is sure of.