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When Rin comes home, it is half-past-two in the morning on a Saturday, and Haruka is not asleep, like he is supposed to be. Instead, Rin finds him in the bathroom, retching up his insides. There is a wine bottle – a birthday present, Rin remembers, from a while back – sitting on the bedside table, and it is mostly empty. Rin stares at it, for several moments, traveling bag still on his shoulder – Haruka does not usually drink, and when he does, only sparingly.
Glass of water and painkillers in hand, Rin walks into the bathroom. Haruka is sitting on the floor-mat by the bathtub, slumped awkwardly against it, forehead pressing into its white porcelain side. Rin crouches next to him, slides an arm around his shoulders, and squeezes, briefly.
“That was my birthday merlot, wasn’t it,” he says, handing over the glass of water. “Tell me you enjoyed it while it lasted.”
Haruka turns brilliant blue eyes on him, cheek resting on the bathtub’s edge. His face is flushed: dark hair plastered to his forehead, cheekbones tinged red. The set of his mouth – deeply turned down, lower lip jutting out – tugs at Rin’s heart. He reaches for the water – Rin keeps a cautionary hold around the glass, just in case.
“My hero,” Haruka says, voice thick, eyes misty, when he has sipped at the water. It finally sinks in, just how inebriated he is.
Rin flicks him on the forehead. “I don’t believe you mean that, Haru, love, you’re drunk.”
Haruka’s face folds into an – in Rin’s opinion – adorable frown. “Why wouldn’t I mean it? That makes no sense.”
“You don’t even like alcohol,” Rin says, by way of reply, “do I want to know what drove you to drink?”
Haruka shrugs, a faltering up-and-down movement of his shoulders. “I’m not sure,” he says, with uncharacteristic honesty, forehead creasing in bemusement, “I was working on this stupid website for a client. I’m not sure I finished it. I hate designing websites. Coding makes my head hurt.” He doesn’t seem to be aware that he is rambling. Rin recalls that he has always been a chatty, long-winded sort of drunk. “I think I – I guess I missed you, or something. Strange, isn’t it?” He lifts his chin, offers Rin a slow, tired smile. “Glad you’re home.”
Rin swallows against the sudden lump in his throat, and tries for cheeriness. “Tell me in the morning, and I just might believe you.” He stands, a little stiffly, offers Haruka his arm. “C’mon, up you get.”
“You’re going to have to remind me,” Haruka says, seriously, looking up at Rin from underneath half-lidded eyes. It is not a seductive expression – on the contrary, it is guileless, childlike, almost, and sends a pang through Rin’s chest. Haruka holds up his arms, for Rin to pull him up. “Because I’m going to forget.”
He sways on his feet, leans heavily into Rin’s side.
Rin hugs him around the waist, presses a kiss into his hair.
“Don’t worry,” he says, against Haruka’s temple, “I’ll remember for you.”
end.