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Language:
English
Series:
Part 9 of 12 days of harumaki
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Published:
2025-12-24
Words:
1,254
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
103
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4
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923

eleven pipers piping

Summary:

Without cameras, Maki allows himself to admire Harua fully. “We could do it better,” he shrugs one shoulder.

“Do what better?” He asks without removing the straw from his mouth.

Maki gestures vaguely to where Taki and Jo stood half an hour ago. “The game. With pocky,”

Work Text:

Maki shakes his head in disappointment, they can’t even almost kiss right.

Taki and Jo are playing a different version of the pepero game with a piece of chicken. Taki keeps taking bites and not going anywhere while Jo is completely frozen.

He did the same thing when he played with Maki, and while he doesn’t mind taking charge it did make it harder. In only a few seconds their pepero game is over and nearly the entire chicken piece is intact.

The camera catches his disappointment, and he wonders what Luné will think of it. If they’ll realize it’s because he knows he can do better. Given another chance, he could beat Zerobaseone’s score of 0.5 centimeters.

Once the show's over and Yuma puts his camera away, their manager picks seven of them to film tiktoks. Nicholas leaves with an impish grin on his face. Maki whispers in one of the camera woman’s ears, the main filmer for the 10,000¥ challenge, to follow after him.

Harua and him are the stragglers left behind. He makes himself comfortable by leaning against the counter in front of the mirrors. All their stuff from both his other members and the stylists is cluttered everywhere, so he has to move it to make room.

Maki doom scrolls on his phone for a few clicks, tiktoks of himself breeze past his feed. After fifteen minutes, a ship edit pops up.

It’s of Harua and himself. Analyzing Maki gripping onto Harua’s thigh with romantic music playing in the background. It’s a little stupid, but it gives Maki an idea.

He trails his eyes from his phone to Harua. He’s lounging on the couch and gnawing on a straw. One hand on the empty cup of coffee and the other on his phone.

Maki leans his weight onto his palms. “Harua,”

He looks up from his phone slowly. Though only half his attention is on him. Without cameras, Maki allows himself to admire Harua fully. “We could do it better,” he shrugs one shoulder.

“Do what better?” He asks without removing the straw from his mouth.

Maki gestures vaguely to where Taki and Jo stood half an hour ago. “The game. With pocky,” he tacks on the condition to the end.

Harua sets the cup down then. He holds one finger up and stands up. After one curt nod he spins 90° toward the door.

Harua disappears. He walks out the door, and when Maki goes to follow him he’s gone. Right. Great.

He’ll take that as a no.

Maki throws his weight into the couch. There’s a tiny Harua’s butt shaped divot in the leather. When he opens his phone again, he immediately opens Twitter. Luné is freaking out about something. He doesn’t like any tweets, they’d somehow figure out it’s him within the hour, but he reads them all. Like a more interesting Weverse.

“Got it!” Harua waves a pack of chocolate pocky in his face. Maki hadn’t even heard him come in.

Once it’s registered that Harua is actually going to play with him, he shoots up. On the way he nearly knocks skulls with him. He pouts at him, but when Maki clasps his hands together in a silent apology he drops the expression

Eloquently Haura plucks a single stick from the box. He has a huge grin on his face while he waves it between their faces. Maki copies him, the excitement infectious. He’s giddy to prove himself right, eating pocky is just an added bonus.

Harua sticks the undipped end in his mouth. He holds it out and allows Maki to carefully take a hold of the other end

The chocolate begins dissolving in his mouth. The sugary sweet taste goes down with his saliva. Harua inches closer while tilting his head.

He doesn’t seem sure where he should be looking, so Maki decides for him.. He reaches up to cup the side of his face, his soft skin warm against his cold hands. Maki watches his eyes flicker to his own. The mesmerizing brown lures Maki into biting down on the pocky further.

Determination and a warm stirring in his gut fuel him. Harua holds the back of his neck, unnecessarily keeping him from pulling away. Maki mimics the action. The soft pulse rapidly beating beneath his palm is familiar. It matches his own.

His plush lips are wrapped around the stick gently. He doesn’t attempt to move, and allows Maki to take the lead. He does so greedily, his small nibbles transform to large bites.

Harua bares his teeth as Maki moves closer. They tilt their heads in opposite directions to avoid their lips touching. From this close Maki can count the number of eyelashes on his face. He can hear the soft intake of Harua’s breath and feel the heaty exhale against his cheek.

Maki moves inches closer. Harua makes a small whiney sound as Maki moves his hand from his cheek to his shoulder. It burns deep in the pools of his stomach with want. He snakes his other hand to his waist and presses. Harua makes a lower, needier sound.

He can’t see the pocky stick anymore. His vision entirely filled with Harua. Maki doesn’t push his luck, the competitive streak running through him outweighs his desire to pull more from Harua.

Although he doesn’t make it easy. Harua shifts to nudge Maki’s feet apart, his thighs cupping around the muscle. When Maki moves closer, practically standing tip-to-tip, he’ll plead only wanting to make the pocky smaller.

He lifts his arm beneath their maws to take one final nibble. The moment he moves away he aches to return. Harua doesn’t let his neck go immediately, his fingers find the short hairs at his nape and give them a soft tug before he lets go. Maki holds his hand out until the tiny pocky falls into the palm of his hand.

Harua peers down at the crumb. “How much is it?” He’s a little out of breath. Maki’s not sure why, he felt him breathing.

He shrugs and nods toward the ruler on the table. Harua lines it up carefully with the end. It’s less than a centimeter, about 0.11 cm if he were to be exact.

“We beat it!” Harua beams up at him. Maki holds his hand up for a high-five and earns three in quick succession.

He wipes the crumb off his hand. The smile on his face mimics Harua’s. He knew they could do it.

Their manager pokes his head in. Behind him,

Harua follows after obediently, leaving Maki alone in the room. This time, he’s sure Harua won’t return for a bit. He glances down at his phone. The usual dopamine rush doesn’t hit him.

Slowly it begins to dawn on Maki. The feelings he's been side-stepping his entire career. The ones that boil up in hot flashes on occasion. Feelings that earn him sensitive talks about expressing himself with their manager. The heat thrumming in the intimacy of being so near kissing Harua is irreplaceable.

He wants to kiss Harua.

Not in a friend way, like that time he kissed Taki while they were trainees to see if he was really bisexual. He is, just not for Taki. In an actual really stupidly gay way.

Harua’s name pops up on his phone, letting him know he’s going to order food later.

The sunglasses emoji added to the end makes him laugh.

Maki is so fucked, and really it’s all Harua’s fault.

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