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"Aren't you two supposed to be dating?"
The questions comes with a warm afternoon; a suitable mark for the end of summer, just slightly overcast and humid to the point where it's almost unbearable. There's an eletric swell in the air that promises a storm later, but as many times as Sousuke's lifted his head to check the clouds haven't gotten any thicker nor any darker over the sun, so he doesn't expect rain to come for a while.
Rin's eyebrow is quirked and pointedly, unabashedly bemused. The kind of look that Sousuke is simultaneously accustomed to and annoyed with.
"What are you going on about now?" he asks, tipping his gaze away to flick over to where Haruka glides headfirst into a tidal wave. How the force of it doesn't send him tumbling, Sousuke doesn't know—but then, he's always had a way of moving enigmatically through the water. He almost allows himself to smile.
"You. Haru," Rin says, which does nothing to clarify. Sousuke waits. "You're dating, aren't you?"
Sousuke turns back over to look at Rin and blinks. He doesn't know why Rin feels like he even needs to ask; granted, it is a relatively new thing, but he's pretty sure he'd been clear when he'd told Rin a few weeks ago that he and Haruka had decided to actually put a label on whatever the fuck's going on between them. "What's your point?"
"You don't act like it," Rin tells him, eyes rolling. His palms press deep enough into the sand that some of the tiny granules gather around his wrists.
Sousuke only sort of wants to ask him what he means. But he mostly doesn't, not only because it isn't any of his business but also because talking about his relationship with Haruka is hardly something that he does with Haruka, so doing it with someone else feels even more bizarre. So instead he just nods. "Okay."
Rin looks ready to punch him. It's sort of funny. "... Okay. Okay?"
"Yeah. Why do we need to act like anything?" And shit. He hadn't meant to ask a question, but Rin's mouth is already opening and Sousuke thinks that it's probably too late to backtrack now.
"Because you're a couple! Shouldn't you ... fuck, I don't know—be swimming together, doing disgusting shit like kissing underwater and building sandcastles and finding seashells together on the shore?"
Sousuke stares. "What the hell do we need seashells for?"
"It's not about the fucking seashells," Rin groans, falling back onto his elbows, like he's deflating. "Jesus, Sousuke, you know what I mean. You told me you were dating almost a month ago, but you still act like you can barely stand each other. Like ... you're strangers, or something."
That catches Sousuke off guard. He glances over at Haruka again, just barely catches the way he smooths two hands over his hair before he dives back into the water, fingertips breaching the surface first, then elbows, then the rest of him. Graceful. Sousuke's heart swells a little, pressing up into his throat and he swallows. "No, we don't."
"You do. You never touch. You never kiss. Just on the way here you barely looked at each other. You just walked side by side, saying nothing, and when we got here Haru ran off into the ocean and you didn't even look like you were thinking about following him. Anyone would have thought you were perfect strangers."
Sousuke wants to argue that he had thought about following him, but he knows that it's not the point Rin's trying to make and that the response would probably just get him hit, so he refrains. "Why should we care about what anyone else thinks?" he asks instead, and Rin's chest sinks on an exhale.
"Because if nobody would be able to tell you're a couple, what does that say about the relationship?" Rin prompts, looking very much like he thinks he's making a fantastic point. Maybe he is. It certainly makes Sousuke pause, but only before he lets his silence melt into a scowl.
"It says that it's none of their business," he says, grateful that he's able to keep his voice at an even level even though he probably looks pissed. "That maybe we like to keep things private?"
Rin sighs, dragging a leg up through the sand to bend his knee. "And I'm not saying that's not fair. It's just that it's weird enough picturing you two together in the first place, let alone when you hardly show that you're into each other at all."
"Is there a reason that other people need to see it?"
"No. I'm not saying it needs to be in public, or—"
"Then why are we even having this conversation?"
Rin huffs, and then asks like he's telling a secret, quiet and a little ashamed, "Is it really any different when you're alone?"
Sousuke goes silent. Oh.
So that's what he's been trying to get at. The air around him is very hot, all of a sudden. Very thick. "Um." He wonders if it's too late now, to follow Haruka into the water.
The thing is, it's a good question. A very real question, and Sousuke doesn't like it. It makes him feel like there's a magnifying glass being held up to his relationship, picking apart all of the little things and calling them imperfect. Of course they're imperfect. Isn't everything?
Rin cracks a small, triumphant sort of grin. "Well?"
And so Sousuke thinks about it. Yes, he wants to say, because it is the truth, undoubtedly—it's more that he doesn't know how to explain to what extent they're different. There are certain mechanics, certain workings to their relationship that Sousuke's barely able to understand himself. How is he supposed to help someone else understand, then?
A series of soft footsteps relieve him of the burden of answering, and he's reaching over to pick up Haruka's towel before he even thinks about it. He holds it up when Haruka reaches them, expressionless, and oh. Is he blushing? He really hopes he isn't, but Haruka just takes the towel without question and lifts it to his hair.
"Good swim?" Sousuke asks, pretending like he can't feel Rin's gaze on him.
"Mm." His shirt is by Sousuke's feet, but he's still dripping everywhere, so Sousuke doesn't bother with handing it to him yet. "You didn't go in."
Shit. Not a good time, Sousuke wants to say, doesn't. If Rin wasn't looking at him before, he definitely is now. Probably smug as hell, too. The bastard.
"Wasn't feeling up to it today," Sousuke says. "Are you hungry?"
They walk side by side again on the way back, and Rin walks behind them, babbling about his coach back in Australia. They're halfway home when Sousuke reaches out, in a sudden burst of bravery, and tangles a few of his fingers with Haruka's.
This time, it's Haruka he gets a look from. He can't pinpoint exactly what the question is behind it, so he just screws his mouth up to the side and works all of his energy into delivering the message let's talk about it later into his expression. And Haruka either gets it or doesn't care to question it any further, because he turns his gaze back to the road in front of them, giving Sousuke's hand a little squeeze in the process.
And if Sousuke drags him a little closer in response; well, he can blame it on the fact that Rin's watching.
"It was nice seeing Rin," Haruka says that night, after Rin has left to head back to Iwatobi. Both he and Haruka had offered him a couch to sleep on in their own apartments for the night, but it's been months since Rin's gone home to see his mother and she had been adamant about him going to see her at some point during his summer break. Which is fair, really. Sousuke's pretty sure she's the one who always misses him the most.
He nods his agreement, watching Haruka settle onto his end of the couch, tea in hand. "We'll see him a lot more of him soon," he muses, uncrossing his legs to accommodate for the way Haruka stretches his out, feet searching for Sousuke's lap to rest in. "He told me he wants to come back here next year, swim for Team Japan."
"He's told everyone that," Haruka affirms, leaning his back against the armrest. "Ever since elementary school, in case you forgot." Sousuke snorts. "But I'm glad."
"Yeah?" Sousuke asks, stroking the pads of his fingers down the sole of Haruka's foot. He gets a grunt and a half-hearted kick, and grins.
"Yeah. I miss him."
Sousuke nods. "Me, too. Annoying as he may be," he grumbles, earning himself an amused snort. But he finds himself a little too distracted to completely notice; a little too thoroughly hung up on what Rin had been saying earlier.
He watches Haruka watch television, some oceanic documentary about God knows what sea creature. His eyes reflect whatever's currently on the screen but mostly they're blue, as blue as they always are, and it's only when Haruka lifts his tea to his mouth that he notices Sousuke's staring. Their eyes meet, but he doesn't ask. Which Sousuke is sort of grateful for, anyway.
Is it really any different when you're alone?
Yes, Sousuke thinks, his same unspoken answer as before. His hand settles along Haruka's calf, thumb stroking around the ankle in steady circles, and Haruka offers him a small, warm, genuine smile. His heart slams against his ribcage, a painful, wonderful reminder of just how they ended up here. Two months ago, this sort of feeling had made him want to curl up and disappear. Now he sort of wants the same—except that now, he wants Haruka to come with him. Everywhere.
"Hey," he says. "Let's talk for a second."
Haruka turns to him, blinks. There's just the suggestion of a smile at one corner of his mouth. "I'm so confused as to what we're doing right now ..."
"Shut up," Sousuke murmurs, pressing the heel of his foot into Haruka's side. He doesn't get a smile, but the twinkle in his eyes is more than good enough. "I mean about something ... about us."
Haruka holds his gaze very intently, very steadily. He seems to take a deep breath before he asks, "Do you want to break up?"
Sousuke just about chokes on air. "Wha—no. Haru. Why would you even think that?"
"I'm preparing myself for the worst case scenario."
"Don't do that," Sousuke scolds, narrowing his eyes. "Listen. I was talking to Rin earlier—"
"Of course."
"Listen," he repeats, grumbling. "And he said something that just sort of ... got my attention."
Haruka lifts an eyebrow momentarily before he pulls both of them together, creating a little crease just above the bridge of his nose that Sousuke wants to smooth away with his thumb. Or a kiss. He'd be okay with either option. "That can't be good," Haruka murmurs, and Sousuke's laugh flanks a sigh. "What was it?"
Sousuke shakes his head. "Just ..." And yeah, now he kind of regrets bringing it up. He grunts, as means of getting his frustration across, and Haruka's expression remains even, understanding. Attentive. It's something about their relationship that, despite all of their flaws, always seems to work—Sousuke can't read Haruka like Tachibana and Haruka can't read Sousuke like Rin, but Haruka and Sousuke have always had an understanding of one another. A perk, among few, of being people who aren't very good at outwardly extending what they're feeling or what they want to say. "Do you think that you and I act like we're a couple?"
He doesn't look at Haruka when he asks. He drops his gaze instead to his lap, to the pair of socked feet resting there, to his own hand absently stroking the skin of Haruka's calf. Across from him, Haruka makes a low noise in his throat.
"We are a couple," Haruka says, slowly. "Aren't we?"
Sousuke glances up. "Yes," he says, firmly. "What, you think you can rid of me that easily, Nanase?" He prods at Haruka's foot again, with his thumb this time, and Haruka squirms and then retracts his feet completely, glaring.
"Then," Haruka continues, apparently deciding to ignore Sousuke's question. "Doesn't that count as acting like a couple? If we are one?"
Sousuke lowers his head in a half-attempt at a nod. It's more or less the same thing he'd been trying to say to Rin earlier, but the more he thinks about it, the more he starts to wonder if Rin had a point. "I guess."
"Oh." And there's a shift; Haruka presses into the couch with his palms and sits up, eyes focused hard on Sousuke's expression, betraying his level of concern. "This is bothering you."
"It's not bothering me," Sousuke says. Haruka looks at him like he's lying. "It's not, Haru."
"Then what is?"
Sousuke sighs, all at once grateful that Haruka's going out of his way to pull a response out of him and wishing that he'd never brought this up in the first place. "Rin doesn't think we act like we're together," he admits.
Across the couch, Haruka blinks, eyes half-lidded with their usual apathy. "Rin's an idiot," he says, and he pauses here, most likely to let Sousuke snort—which he does. "Why do you keep listening to him?"
"He's my best friend," Sousuke says wryly. "Even if he is an idiot, I value his opinion about these kinds of things. Besides, he's the romantic. I've never been good at this kind of thing, but he's usually pretty spot on about relationship stuff."
"Funny, considering he's never been in one."
Sousuke shrugs. "Call him a natural, I guess."
Haruka tilts his chin down, not arguing. He must know that Sousuke has a point. Rin is usually right about these things, even if they're both normally hard-pressed to admit it.
"So," Haruka prompts, gently. There's a question between the lines there somewhere, and Sousuke grunts his acknowledgment.
"I'm just thinking about it now. It doesn't bother me, because the way you and I act around each other doesn't bother me, but he's sort of got me worrying if maybe it'll start to if we don't change something." He pauses to take a deep breath, and Haruka stays silent, patient. "That said, I don't really know what needs to change. It's ... I mean. To be fair, we really haven't done much."
"You never said you wanted to."
"I know," Sousuke says quickly, showing Haruka his palms like he's surrendering to something. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. But I'd be lying if I said that there aren't places—or lines, that I don't know where they are or if I could cross them even if I did. This—" he motions to the space between them, "—is something we're not good at. I think we both know that. We kind of fell into this, and I'm okay with that. I'm—a lot more than okay with it, actually, but it still gets confusing sometimes. And now that Rin's said something about it, I'm just wondering if maybe we should try and talk about it. If maybe doing that kind of thing is worth it."
He's very much aware of quickly this conversation has gotten serious. It itches underneath his skin, and even though he hasn't let go of Haruka's gaze since he started talking, it feels like he's looking somewhere else entirely.
When Haruka speaks, it's only after he exhales. "Okay."
"Okay?" Sousuke nudges his toes into Haruka's ribs, gently, waits for the annoyed bat at his foot that for once doesn't come.
"Okay," Haruka nods, slow. "Let's talk about it."
Maybe it's because he doesn't quite know where to go next with the conversation, but Sousuke finds himself nodding, too. "Alright," he says, then unceremoniously blurts, "I think we should. Act more ... like we're together."
Haruka lifts an eyebrow. There's surprise all over his expression. "That didn't take long."
"I've been thinking about it all day," Sousuke mumbles. "All I wanted was your permission to talk about it first."
Haruka's mouth tilts to one side, like he's considering. "Well. What would we have to do? To be ... more like a couple."
"According to Rin? Touch more. Kiss more. Talk more. Not necessarily in public, but apparently it wouldn't hurt. Give out more signs that we're in a relationship." It feels weird saying it; a bulleted list of the things they need to change about their relationship. This isn't how these sorts of talks are supposed to go, is it?
To be fair, he wouldn't know. He doesn't have the romantic instinct that Rin does, nor does he have the experience to make up for it with. But it still doesn't feel right, and that has to mean something, doesn't it?
He's pulled out of his thoughts when he feels fingers stroking along the back of his hand, then quickly lacing up with his. Haruka's in the middle of the couch now, sitting carefully between Sousuke's legs, and he brings their joined hands up into the space between them, eyes narrowed.
"We touch," he says, giving Sousuke's hand a little squeeze as if to emphasize his point. And he leans forward, free hand tipping Sousuke's chin up so that he can press their lips together quickly. Sousuke barely even has time to close his eyes for it. "We kiss. And we talk. We're talking now." He brings their hands closer to him, and then turns them so that he can press the back of Sousuke's hand against his cheek. His eyes shine a little, like the contact alone is making him glow, and fuck, he's so cute. Sousuke wants to say so, but he knows from experience that Haruka hates hearing it. "Right?"
Sousuke uses his thumb to press gentle circles into Haruka's hand, and wonders if he ever feels this sort of hurricane in his chest, too. "I did say what was according to Rin," he points out, and Haruka blinks.
"Alright," he says. "According to you. What would we have to do?"
Oh. Sousuke slides down a little bit in his seat. "Not sure," he admits, free hand lifting to tentatively rest of Haruka's hip. It's not a touch that's necessarily new, but it's not a place he touches often, either. Haruka doesn't flinch away, though, so he lets himself relax, strokes his fingers along the skin above the waistband of Haruka's jeans. "Like I said, sometimes I don't know where the lines are."
"Meaning?"
"When we're touching," Sousuke presses, "sometimes I feel like you want more from me. Sometimes I feel like I want more. Today, when I held your hand walking back from the beach—even that felt like a question. I had to wonder if it was alright before I did it. It's fucking weird, because I'm not used to not knowing what to do with you. Everything fell into place on its own before now, and I never know what I'm allowed to do because I don't even know how to try it."
"You can ask me," Haruka suggests, looking very much like he wants to have this conversation as little as Sousuke does. "You're allowed to do that much."
"I know," Sousuke says, running a hand through his hair. "I can, but I don't know how a lot of the time."
"Then I'll ask," Haruka suddenly says, leaning forward a little. He shifts, and his knees spread against the couch just marginally. "What kind of touching do you want?"
And fuck, if that isn't the most awkward way to phrase it. He wonders if it shows on his expression how uncomfortable he is, but Haruka's back to his deadpan, so there's nothing for him to pull from, nothing to work off of. He tightens his grip on Haruka's hand for the sake of feeling like he isn't completely floundering. "I don't know. Just ... more, I think."
"More," Haruka echoes. His eyes go slightly wide.
So do Sousuke's. He snatches his hand back from Haruka's hip so forcefully his elbow cracks against the armrest of the couch. "I mean—wait, okay, no—that is—I didn't mean—"
"Oh."
Fuck. Shitfuckshit. If he wasn't blushing before, he definitely is now. He coughs not-so-delicately to the side, considers forgetting all about this conversation and just walking out the door. He could come back tomorrow and pretend like nothing happened and honestly, Haruka would probably play along.
"Sousuke." Haruka says it with purpose; even without looking, Sousuke knows he's leaning closer.
Or maybe not. "Mm?"
There's a huff. "Look at me." And a set of fingers wind around his chin to make him do just that. "Stop getting embarrassed. This isn't like you."
It isn't like him, and this Sousuke knows. He knows how confident he's supposed to be—how confident he is—and he knows how much he shows it. But he's always been different around Haruka; at one point meaner, at another quieter, and now, a hell of a lot more flustered. Besides. This is territory they haven't crossed yet. And regardless of the fact that Haruka's so much smaller than him, when he's leaning over him like this, fingers on his chin and eyes narrowed, looking down on him, it makes him feel like he's about an inch in height.
"Sousuke," Haruka says again. "Do you want to have sex?"
"Yes," Sousuke's somehow able to answer automatically, even with his heart thrumming unsteadily and his face as hot as it's ever been. Haruka's cheeks start to go just as red, his mouth falling to form a small 'o,' and Sousuke sighs, squeezing Haruka where their hands are still connected. "I don't mean right now."
"I know."
"But I do want to," Sousuke says. "Obviously. Do you?"
Haruka's expression turns contemplative, and his voice is low and flat when he says, "I haven't really thought about it."
Sousuke blinks. "Seriously?"
"It doesn't really seem like it's all that important," Haruka tells him, brow cinched up almost comically. "I've thought about it happening. Just not about whether I want it or not."
"And now?"
"I don't know." Haruka shakes his head, settling his free hand on Sousuke's waist. Sousuke wonders if he can feel his pulse there, if he can tell how rapidly it's racing. "... I think I just want you."
He says it like it's the simplest thing in the world. Maybe, to him, it is.
"I can work with that," Sousuke says, settling his hand on the small of Haruka's back. Between touching him like this and the ever-consistent twine of their hands, it feels like they're centering each other. Like where they touch is their middle ground. "You know I'd never force you to do anything you're not comfortable with."
Haruka makes a face like he's annoyed, then exhales in a way that's just a little too quick to qualify as a sigh. "I know," he says, and his forehead is heavy against Sousuke's when he leans forward to press them together. The hand he's balanced at Sousuke's side rubs, prompting Sousuke to do the same at his lower back, and he tilts his head just so, so that their noses nudge together and their lips are a whisper away.
"And you know," Sousuke starts, before he can think better of it, "how much you mean to me. Right?"
Haruka nods, a gentle brush of his forehead against Sousuke's. "Yeah."
"Good."
"Mm," Haruka hums. "And in case you get confused about it in the future, you are allowed to touch me. Wherever you want."
If they weren't so close in proximity, Sousuke might choke. He holds Haruka just a little bit tighter. "Ah. Alright."
"That means right now, too."
Sousuke knows his laugh sounds awkward. He squirms. "I think I'm okay. Right now. Right here." He presses into Haruka's back a little, clears his throat. "I don't think I'd know where to start, anyway."
Haruka doesn't smile, but his eyes shine like he wants to, and it is enough. "We can start here," he mumbles, and tips his chin up so that his mouth presses against Sousuke's.
Sousuke has no arguments. He wouldn't give one even if he did. He kisses back, pressing down until Haruka's back sinks and the parallel lines of their bodies merge into one, their clasped hands trapped somewhere in between their chests, a centerpoint between their beating hearts. It's the most they've ever touched all at once, and it's overwhelming and intimate and connecting, just on the bearable side of intimidating.
Wherever I want, huh? He wonders if Haruka's completely aware of the weight behind those words. He dips his hand under the fabric of Haruka's shirt, so that he can press against soft skin, and waits for Haruka to tense up as he moves his hand upward. He doesn't—he just pushes his body closer, opens his mouth a little bit wider against Sousuke's—and Sousuke becomes very fascinated with the line of his spine, tracing the knots of bone with the tips of his fingers until he reaches the area between Haruka's shoulder blades, pressing. Haruka makes a small noise, one that sounds a lot like he's swallowing back a short moan, and so Sousuke continues, massaging little circles up and down the length of his back.
It's nice. Very, very nice. Haruka kisses him like he can't bear not to, and it's easy to lose himself in the warmth of Haruka's mouth, Sousuke has found, has known since their first fumbling kiss on the floor of Sousuke's apartment, curled up around a stack of textbooks. It's easy even as they kiss here, on Haruka's couch in the dark by the dim light of the flickering television and the moonlight trapped behind the blinds, lips sliding together until their mouths grow tired. And they keep kissing even as this happens, right down to the point of lazy little pecks when Haruka finally pulls back.
"It's late," he whispers against Sousuke's jaw.
Sousuke tries not to shiver, and nods. "Yeah. I'll get going," he mumbles, reaching up to brush Haruka's hair away from his forehead and pressing his lips to the skin there. And because Haruka has a habit of forgetting, "Remember to take your pills in the morning."
But Haruka doesn't move. His fingers drum softly against Sousuke's waist. "You can just remind me yourself."
"You can't rely on a text message to keep your anxiety in check, Haruka."
"I'm not talking about a text," Haruka says, dipping his chin down to rest against Sousuke's clavicle. It's another point of contact that Sousuke isn't used to, and he has to process it before the words even reach him.
When they do, Sousuke lifts his chin in a half-nod, not quite sure what his answer is only because he doesn't know if he's understanding correctly. Haruka's eyes are so very bright. "Are you asking me to stay?" he asks, carefully, and Haruka nods silently. "... Here?"
Finally, there is another smile. "Yeah." And then it's gone as he sits up, lifting away from Sousuke's chest and leaving him cold. His eyebrows pull together curiously. "I don't mean here on the couch."
"I know," Sousuke says, choking on a laugh. "Jesus, Haru."
"Alright," Haruka says, rapping his knuckles against the inside of Sousuke's knee and releasing his hand. "Come on. I'm tired."
It's as much of an invitation as he's going to get, probably. But he's sort of okay with that. If Haruka had gone as far to look him in the eye and blatantly say let's go sleep next to each other in my bed, Sousuke might have just decided to disappear into the couch cushions. At least now he's able to follow Haruka into his bedroom wordlessly and with some semblance of pride.
He sits on Haruka's bed to undress, and keeps his eyes averted as Haruka does the same at the other end of the room, near his dresser. Sousuke folds the pieces of clothing he takes off—socks, then jeans, then sweatshirt—and places the pathetic stack on the floor near Haruka's bedside table, waiting for Haruka to pad over to meet him.
When he does, it's with a nudge of his own knee against Sousuke's.
"You're on my side of the bed," he murmurs. It sounds like he's teasing, maybe joking, but Haruka is a creature of habit, so Soususke snorts and pushes himself over the the other side of the bed, anyway, leaving more than enough room for Haruka to crawl in and join him. The bed dips underneath his hands and knees, and his eyes are curtained by his dark bangs when he glances up to meet Sousuke's gaze. Oh.
He looks just as uneasy as Sousuke feels.
Sousuke glances from his eyes to his hands, itching to reach out and take one of them into his own. Can they go back to that kind of simplicity now? In their sort of situation does a bed call for more complicated touches, or does it call for none to be made at all?
These are the moments he hates—these moments of unclarity, of not knowing what to do next, what would even be okay to do next. There hasn't been a lot of them, only a few weaved in between comfortable silences and blushing gazes. There was one when Sousuke had gathered up the courage to tell Haruka how he felt. There was another when they held hands for the first time; Sousuke remembers very vividly the fluttering deep in his chest, a flurry of feelings licking up the sides of his heart and throat and everything, making it very, very hard to breathe.
"Are you going to lay down?" Haruka asks, cutting into the silence and dousing Sousuke with a rush of reality. Where is he again?
Haruka's apartment. Haruka's bedroom. Haruka's bed. He narrows his location down in his mind like a spiral. He nods, and Haruka follows him as he leans back, mirroring him as he settles back against the mattress. Sousuke wants to ask, What are we doing wrong? Why can't this feel natural?
But Haruka's hand darts forward, catching his and automatically anchoring him, making him feel a little bit more sure.
"You look like I'm about to kill you," Haruka says, words muffled by the way he's turned to press his mouth into his shoulder.
Sousuke raises an eyebrow. "I mean, you never know."
"Don't be stupid."
"Most people would argue that being cautious about being murdered is a smart thing."
"I'm not going to murder you."
"Hm. That's just what a serial killer would say."
Haruka's eyes narrow. "I changed my mind. Get out of my bed." But he punctuates the sentence by curling his fingers a little more tightly around Sousuke's, supplying the clarity that he's joking.
"I don't think so," Sousuke fires back, hiding his smile into a pillow, knowing that Haruka can see it anyway. Maybe he doesn't care.
"Whatever," Haruka mumbles, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes. Sousuke doesn't know whether it's out of exhaustion or annoyance but their hands are still linked together, resting in the space between them, and Sousuke considers bringing them closer to his chest. Or just moving closer to Haruka in general. "Sousuke," Haruka sighs, and Sousuke glances up to find his eyes still closed, mouth tilted downwards. "Stop thinking so hard."
Sousuke blinks. "It's creepy when you do that," he deadpans, and Haruka doesn't respond. Sousuke reaches out for the blanket, pulling it over the both of them, and then reaches out with a hesitant hand. "Can I—"
"Wherever you want," Haruka says again. Sousuke can't remember the last time he was this aware of his own heartbeat.
He reaches for Haruka's hip, uses it as leverage to pull the two of them closer together. Haruka cracks an eye open, looking far too amused for Sousuke's taste, and he frowns. "What?"
What he gets in response is a short, deliberate puff of air blown at his bangs, ruffling them away from his forehead. He crinkles his nose up, pinching the skin beneath his fingers sharply.
"Brat," he murmurs.
"Sorry," Haruka says, but he doesn't sound like he means it at all. His knee makes soft contact with Sousuke's under the covers. "You're cute."
Sousuke snorts. "No."
Haruka lifts their hands just quick enough to kiss Sousuke's knuckles. "Yes."
Ah; Sousuke had almost forgotten that Nanase Haruka and stubborn work as synonyms. He rolls his eyes up to the ceiling and drops them back down. "Since when are you this cliche?"
"Since I started dating you," Haruka mutters. He opens his other eye, finally, and Sousuke sighs.
"Why do I even like you?" he asks, feels a rush of victory when he thinks he sees the tips of Haruka's ears go red. He slides his hand up under Haruka's sleep shirt, pressing into the skin of his back all over again.
"I like you, too," Haruka says, quietly, and Sousuke lifts an eyebrow despite the way his stomach does a flip.
"I would hope so," he teases, and Haruka huffs. With a smile, he drags them together a little bit more, and Haruka shifts accordingly, bracing a hand on Sousuke's waist. Sousuke drums his fingers where they rest against Haruka's spine. "This is nice."
"Hm?"
"This," Sousuke says, finding that it is very hard to piece together an explanation when Haruka's thumb is rubbing slow circles into his palm. "I guess I didn't completely consider this."
"What?"
"That we can act like a couple and still move slow."
Haruka smiles. Sousuke wonders where the instruction manual on breathing is.
"We've been dating for less than a month," Haruka points out. "I don't think this counts as slow."
Sousuke nods, wholly distracted by the amused crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Haruka is so damned handsome. So pretty. "So let's move fast, then," he says, without really thinking about it, and it's only when Haruka's smile develops an amused, mischievous quirk that he understands exactly what's tumbled out of his mouth. He sighs in self-deprecation, turns his head to press the side of his face more firmly into his pillow. "That came out wrong."
But Haruka still looks amused even as he nods. "Yeah." And he gives a tug, pulling Sousuke's hand back so that he ends up with his palm pressed firmly to Haruka's chest instead of to Haruka's own palm, where the touch is simple and calloused and familiar. Haruka wraps an arm around his waist and presses his newly freed hand to Sousuke's neck, fingers pressing into his skin just above where his pulse is beating like a drum, and oh. Sousuke understands. Haruka is so calm against him, even as they touch like this.
It's new. It's different. But Haruka's heartbeat is steady under his palm, a reminder that he's right here, warm and soft and a little frightening. Well, Sousuke thinks—if there was ever a time to consider intimate and frightening synonyms, it certainly would be right about now.
He presses his lips to Haruka's forehead, because it's the easy thing to do, and Haruka melts just that little bit more. Their knees knock together, and Sousuke inhales.
"Goodnight," Haruka whispers, somewhere in between Sousuke's heart and his chin. He doesn't know quite where. There's a puff of air released against the hollow of his throat but among the swelling in his heart and the flurry in his stomach and the sparks at his spine and fingertips, he can't really tell each sensation apart from the others. It's all a mix, all one giant tidal wave tugging at his feet, dragging him under with nothing but the promise of Haruka, Haruka, Haruka.
He realizes with sudden clarity that he has nothing to blame this on. And then, just as quickly, thinks that he doesn't care.
So he concedes. Gives up, withdraws. He leans his chin atop Haruka's head and listens to the sound of his steady breathing, lets it piece together a stanza of unspoken confessions that he's perfectly okay with losing himself in the wings of.
He translates it into his own little rhyme, and presses it back into the air with a hushed, "Goodnight."