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Despite clocks showing an early 16:39, a perfectly acceptable mid-afternoon time, a common veil of night blanketed the surroundings of Obscuary. In less than five steps, the sun could dim and disappear. The forest and its twisted coal-like trees didn’t appear any less gloomy after Haru’s fiftieth visit. What really unsettled him, however, sending zaps of discomfort up his spine with each step, was the silence of the woods. Jabberwock never had a quiet moment, no matter where you went. The plains, the mountains, the cave, life everywhere and the sounds that came with it.
Obscuary? Nothing. Only the ruffling of leaves in the breeze, which somehow found a way beneath the layers of Haru’s clothing. Not a caw, not a scratch, not a step, although Haru didn’t believe steps would reassure him in these conditions. His pace picked up once he finally saw the wrought iron gate in the distance. The house was darn good at concealing itself within the darkness around it, which made him wonder if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere, every single time.
Thankfully, the interior embraced him, much more warm and inviting than the outside. Although not quite Haru’s preferred decor style, the panneled walls and heavy curtains did a good job at keeping the chill away. One constant, however, was the quiet. If anything, it was even quieter inside. The wind whistled distantly, perhaps all the way up in the roof, but nothing else apart from that.
Haru supposed Jabberwock would be like that too, if not for the anomalous animals. That came with the lack of general students. What a shame.
To stop standing in the foyer any longer than he already had, lost to his musings, Haru stepped over into the adjacent hallway. The carved door that led to the bar stood firmly closed, towering above Haru’s head. Lips pursed as he inspected the uncommon occurrence, Haru caught a slight glint on the antique nickel door studs. The thinnest ray shone below the rich wood, a hint as to a presence.
The hinges didn’t so much as squeak.
A single lamp on the counter sent more shadows than light around the room, faulted by its ornate stained glass lampshade. A work of art to be sure, but an impractical one. It did nothing to reveal the delightful seats of jewel-toned velvet dotted about the room, prevent against a trip on the herringbone parquet’s few treacherous pieces, and only hinted at the number of colourful bottles covering the far wall.
None of this had been Haru’s intended destination, however, his gaze fixed on the silhouette sitting on a stool. A weak gleam illuminated a profile of ivory skin and pale golden strands of hair. A smile broke out on Haru’s face without his knowledge.
“Hey Rui!”
A brutal startle animated the otherwise still body. What Haru had taken as Rui’s nose amidst the mess of his hair broke away from his face as two hands to rest on top of the bar. The ghoul’s head turned Haru’s way. The low light could not conceal the violet curves below heavy-lidded crimson irises, less brilliant than usual. Yet Rui seemed attractive as ever.
“Oh, Harurin- Bar’s not open today, sorry.”
Rui heaved a long sigh, strong traps accentuated by how low his shoulders dropped. Which of exercise or stress had made them so prominent, Haru couldn’t tell. Likely an unhealthy mix of both.
“I can see that.”
Rui had previously asked how Haru could see anything. Haru, of course, had not answered.
“Not here for a drink though.”
Haru was not so irresponsible as to go hunting for alcohol in the middle of the afternoon. Obscuary’s perpetual night did not erase his responsibilities outwith its perimeter. Unfortunately so, sometimes.
“Do you need… help with something then?”
Rui’s question had an uncharacteristic drawl to it. Considering his general state of dischevelement, Haru could hazard a pretty solid guess as to why. Uniform blazer discarded off to the side in an artistic fold, hair a mess that Haru instinctively wanted to card through, red marks on his cheeks from where his fingers had been pressed.
“Can I not just come see my buddy?”
Haru asked, instead of saying any of those things he had noticed. A shine on Rui’s lips caught the light when he pressed them together. Saliva from a swipe of the tongue or that lipgloss he pretended didn’t exist? Haru had caught him reapplying once and never mentioned it. He had just noted the flavour of it, strawberry and peach.
“Sorry, I’m not really in the mood to- hang out.”
Rui’s blonde bangs fell right in the same place over his eyes after he tried brushing them back. Haru, now acclimated to the low light of the room, could better see the slight tremble in Rui’s fingers, curled around the edge of the bar. He did not like it.
“That’s the best time to. Sorrows are better endured with friends around, right?”
At least, Haru believed so. He hoped Rui would as well, because he wished to help ease some of his weariness. Bring a smile to that handsome face. However, it seemed Rui had drifted away from their very conversation, a distant look had overtaken him. Haru’s cheerful attitude faltered, yet he showed none of it.
“Unless you really want me to go, then I will. Not gonna force ya.”
He added, when Rui did not answer after a quiet moment. No matter how much he wanted to help, some things could only be dealt with on your own. Haru would not impose on Rui if this was the case.
“No, no you’re right. Stay.”
Rui gave in, gloved hand leaving the polished wood to drag a second stool ever so slightly closer. It scraped against the floor, too loud for the muted ambiance of the room. Had there been a rug, the sound might have matched the atmosphere better.
“Atta boy.”
The keys on Haru’s hip twinkled as they swung. He propped up one foot on the cross bar of the seat, stretching his arms out over the depth of the bar. As he did, the shape of a low glass on Rui’s other side caught his eye. Filled with an amber drink that Rui would not usually favour, it sat clearly untouched. No lipmark, no fingerprints, barely even traces of the liquid sloshing around. Haru’s previous hypothesis about Rui’s state had been proven wrong.
Yet, he remained quiet to let his friend set the pace. Haru wished he could pry apart Rui’s brain, find the troublesome thoughts and pick them out. Annihilate them in his fist. Alas, life did not work so well. Haru just had to rely on people telling him things. Which did not happen often.
“It’s just… one of those days where you really want a hug from a pretty girl, you feel?”
Usually bright and energetic, similar to Haru, really, Rui rarely sounded so disheartened and beat down like this. Something about the uncharacteristic occurrence made Haru’s skin crawl. He needed to fix this.
“I don’t know about a pretty girl, but I’ll give you a hug.”
Haru’s hair slipped to the side when he inclined his head towards Rui. The offer did not quite receive the intended reaction, given how Rui leant away, hands raised as if Haru could jump on him at any moment.
“Whoa, whoa, wait a sec-”
Haru had not moved closer, but he pulled back anyway. Rui relaxed ever so slightly.
“What? Not good enough for ya?”
He had no mind to blame Rui for refusing, but it would be lying to say it didn’t hurt a little. Why did nobody want Haru’s endless love and affection? He had too much of it and no outlet. Rui’s face twisted with discomfort.
“Um, no offence but- you know, the whole reaper curse thing? I dress carefully to hide as much skin as possible but that doesn’t mean there’s no risk.”
Okay, perhaps that was a fair point, but Haru was perhaps the only person who could touch Rui without consequences. Or well, a specific limb could touch him without consequences. Haru raised his right arm, its dark glove matching Rui’s. He had been the one to give them to Rui, after all.
“I don’t even have skin to touch on this one, it’s fine. C’mon.”
Patting it with the fingers of his other hand emphasised the resilience of metal instead of the vulnerability of skin. Even the thick fabric of Haru’s shirt could not hide the difference of the prosthetic from his flesh. Rui’s expression softened slightly, but his eyebrows remained pinched together. Wrinkles spidered between them and up on his forehead. Haru retained the urge to slide his thumbs over them to smooth the skin out.
“I- I don’t know.”
Rui shook his head, hanging low as when Haru had first entered the bar. Quite a mood he was in. Haru wondered how his sleep had been recently, not that he could judge considering his own schedule.
“Okay, okay, fine. Grumpy.”
Haru conceded. Again. Such was par for the course of being in Rui’s presence. Haru let too much slide when he was around, he was very aware and yet wouldn’t change it for the world. Rui huffed at the childish callout.
“You try going without physical contact for a year, see how you fare.”
The hint of playful bite in Rui’s tone pulled a smile to Haru’s lips. It reminded Haru of a younger Rui, a much more carefree and reckless boy. He would come sit in on the Dionysia rehearsals, watching Haru just as much as Haru watched him. The circus tent always cast warm reds and yellows onto his face, an everchanging painting at the whims of the wind. How much had they both changed since then…
“You were always a touchy one, this has gotta be hard for you.”
The garnets that made up Rui’s eyes shot over to look Haru up and down. They faltered for a moment over his grin.
“Speak for yourself.”
Rui’s retort wasn’t incorrect. Haru did always have the urge to fix a popped collar, brush messy hair back in place or adjust a twisted tie. He’d done it many times to Rui himself, back in the day. It had been a hard habit to drop, when that became necessary. When it was forced upon them by issues outside their control. They hadn’t known, that morning, that Haru picking an eyelash from Rui’s cheek would be their last ever contact.
“I wouldn’t even know how to take care of the animals.”
Haru answered when he managed to pull himself out of the ghost of a memory. Because that was true, so much of his care involved physical touch, he didn’t dare imagine what he would do if he simply couldn’t.
“Speaking of, where’s the little guy? Not with you today?”
Rui jumped on the opportunity to change the subject. He waved three fingers towards Haru’s middle, where one of many colourful slings typically kept Peekaboo close. The bar was one of the few places Haru didn’t bring Peekaboo. Such an adult environment did not suit a baby such as Peekaboo, after all.
“I left him with Ren, he owes me still for passing a note to Ritsu.”
It had been quite the battle to make Ren accept, but bringing up the past favour had made him cave instantly. Maybe he feared what else Haru could make him do while still holding that over his head. Like cleaning up the ushi-oni pen.
“A… note?”
Rui leaned in closer. Nothing quite perked someone up like meaningless gossip. This specific incident was recent enough to still be relevant, but not so much that it would spread like wildfire if overheard. No harm done.
“Was very insistent he couldn’t give it himself, so I had to do it.”
Haru nodded as he recounted. Ren simply had given him no choice, stuffing a piece of paper folded impressively neatly for something torn out of a notebook. Couldn’t take Ren out of the Ren, even when Ritsu was involved.
“What was it about? That sounds…”
Rui didn’t need to finish his sentence for Haru to know exactly what he meant. After all, how many of those notes had Rui himself given out before? Actually, he had more likely received them instead. Knowing his temper, Haru expected Rui to say things in person rather than write them down. Not Ren, though. At least he hadn’t just texted it. Then, Haru wouldn’t have known any of it, it would have a shame.
“Don’t know, I didn’t look. Not my business.”
Haru raised his hands dismissively. Rui’s bangs partly concealed his eyebrows, but Haru couldn’t miss how high he raised them. Clearly, Haru’s acting hadn’t convinced him. Just as planned.
“You?”
Hook-
“Not your business?”
Line-
“Please, you’re such a snoop that I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d set up a hidey hole in my closet.”
And sinker. No comment to be had on the closet. Haru’s smile widened as a laugh burst past his lips. Rui was too easy to play, sometimes.
“Gahaha, okay, you got me. I did look, but I won’t tell.”
Not in so many words, at least. Rui was clever enough that he would be able to piece together the very unsubtle hints Haru kept dropping. He had a way of latching on to insignificant details but missing the obvious that fascinated Haru. Or perhaps he did it on purpose. Interesting thought.
“Renren wasn’t asking for a business consult, I imagine.”
Haru could only smile, lips pinched together slyly. Although Ren probably had the means for Ritsu’s prices, he had not been looking for something quite so professional. Haru didn’t doubt whatever resulted of it would still be very formal, considering Ritsu. Good for them.
“Sure wasn’t.”
Haru debated keeping it at that, but he had nobody to discuss it with. Towa did not have any particular fondness for Ren, despite Haru’s best efforts to make them get along, and Romeo would not tolerate his subordinate engaging in such frivolities. Perhaps Elias would, but it felt strange to discuss non Dionysia-related matters, even though neither of them were part of it anymore.
“You should have seen it, it was really sweet. Even had a little heart in the corner.”
He did need to gush a little about his son. Kids grew up so fast. Haru couldn’t take it sometimes, at least he still had Peekaboo and Towa to take care of. Rui cupped his hand around his cheek to rest his elbow atop the bar. He had a tender smile on his face, dreamy. To Haru, it appeared so blinding he could not see anything else.
“I didn’t know Renren had a cute side.”
Somehow, Haru found himself more offended by that than being refused a hug.
“Of course he does! Hm, I guess you don’t cross paths so often so it does make sense.”
Rui curled a rogue strand of hair around his finger mindlessly. Haru tapped his own on top of the bar in an off rhythm to prevent himself from reaching out and taking over.
“He gets it from his dad.”
Haru’s brain stuttered to a stop at Rui’s comment. He could not conjure up in his head an older version of Ren. Would he have reading glasses? A beard? Haru could vaguely discern Rui’s stubble in the dim light, although its pale colour made it look more like peach fuzz.
“You’ve met his dad?”
Haru asked distractedly, consumed with the urge to drag his nails along the corner of Rui’s strong jaw. He wanted to hear the scratch it would make, feel the itch beneath his fingertips. Haru blinked rapidly when the skin moved below his gaze. Rui’s head had dipped back, a deep genuine laugh escaping him. Haru had no clue why.
“What, why? Why are you- oh.”
The realisation hit him rapidly, but only slightly slower than the blood rushing to his cheeks. If Haru considered Ren his son, then that made Haru… His dad. Haru’s confusion only made Rui laugh harder, leaning his weight over the bar. He almost knocked over the abandoned liquor glass in his fit.
When Rui finally managed to regain control of his lungs, he looked up at Haru with shining drops in his eyelashes. Covered in gold, garnet and diamonds, Rui’s entire face could be mistaken for a bejewelled masterpiece. Haru must have been staring in a strange way, because Rui’s expression changed.
“Okay, fine.”
Rui sat up straighter, taking a moment to adjust his shirt, the four undone buttons allowing it to slip past his shoulder. The tight black turtleneck he wore underneath technically counted as another layer, but it did nothing to hide the shape of his chest. Haru had never asked, but it had to be an intentional decision for sure.
“Fine?”
Haru repeated, unsure of what Rui meant. The shorter of the two chains Rui wore rested in the dip between his clavicles, jumping slightly with every beat of his heart. He weakly lifted an arm towards Haru, turning his head away.
“Hug me.”
Rui’s voice came quietly, sounding suspiciously close to a whine. A rare noise to be pulled from Rui, which only made it more delightful. Haru didn’t waste a second on considering an approach plan, in fear that Rui would pull back if he didn’t move quickly. He ripped off the glove covering his right hand.
“Aw of course, com’ere, buddy.”
Haru had expected Rui to tense up as he wrapped his prosthetic arm around Rui’s shoulders. To be awkward or perhaps scared of the touch after all this time, knowing the risks.
“I guess pretty boys can also make do. In a pinch.”
But no.
“Shucks, I’m not half as pretty as you, Rui.”
Rui just… relaxed into it. He leant his head to the side, resting it against Haru’s shoulder. As if nothing had ever changed from when they were two clueless first years. Maybe it was testing his luck, but Haru spun both of their stools until they faced each other. He pulled Rui close to his chest, metallic hand cupping the back of his head. His fingers gently brushed through his blonde strands.
“I forgot how soft your hair was.”
Haru’s own had never been this silky smooth, likely a mix of the physical agitation of Dionysia and temperamental weather of Jabberwock. Even prior to Darkwich, it had been in decent condition but nothing like this.
“You can feel through it?”
Rui answered instead of giving Haru his hair care routine. He didn’t doubt it counted multiple steps over the span of several hours. Worth it, though.
“Yeah, it’s anomalous tech. Don’t know how it works, but I sure ain’t complaining.”
And especially not right at that moment, when he could feel as Rui’s heartbeat reverberated into his own ribcage. They didn’t have much of a height difference, Rui only taller than Haru by half a hand’s width. However, this seated position made Haru feel so much bigger. So much larger. It massively fed into his protective urges, though he wouldn’t dare admit it to Rui’s face. He never let himself be protected.
They stayed there for a quiet moment, Haru’s fingers drew slow circles through the short hair at the base of Rui’s neck. Only when Rui pulled back with an apologetic smile did they separate. Haru had been happy to just soak it all in.
“Sorry, I was getting a cramp from leaning over.”
Haru only hummed in response. The echoes of long lost normalcy unleashed his instincts, and he reached out to run the tips of his fingers through Rui’s bangs. Although Rui initially flinched at the approach, the glimmer of metal reassured him. Haru smoothed out the strands for longer than necessary, until they lay perfectly framing his face.
“It’s almost like you have really cold hands. But the rest of you is warm.”
Rui whispered, as if he didn’t know whether he wanted Haru to hear. The heavy quietness of the room combined with their proximity meant there was no world in which Haru didn’t. He looked down at his hands, one a blushed pink and the other a mix of white metal and shadowed joints. Some sort of alloy, they had said. Haru didn’t know much about that. He wondered how warm Rui’s hands were, and found in that question the solution to another problem.
“Let’s dance.”
Haru stood, striding over towards the gramophone to kick it into gear. A song he had heard before crackled to life. He didn’t know it too well, but he cared more about pulling Rui to his feet instead. Only taking a second to slide a glove over his bare hand, Haru then caught both of Rui’s very uncooperative ones. They were, in fact, rather warm.
“What?”
After a second of struggle, Haru’s grip clamped down harder on Rui, who gave in. They swayed back and forth, out of time with both each other and the music. Rui had apparently been emboldened by the hug, intoxicated by the contact after so long, given that he didn’t protest any more.
“We’re dancing now. Look at us go.”
Haru reiterated, in the same stern tone he would use to break up a fight. Rui had nothing to answer. Haru then began twirling Rui around the room, almost sending him off balance. Each time, a squeak of protest almost left Rui, but he managed to catch them in time, much to Haru’s chagrin. After another two near-misses, Rui finally spoke up.
“You’re… surprisingly bad at dancing for someone who was part of a circus.”
In Haru’s defence, none of his acts had actually included dance, nor a partner. What they danced bore no resemblance to Frostheim’s favoured waltz, but the energetic agitation suited the duo much better. Haru promptly tripped over Rui’s foot. With a huff, Rui wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him steady.
“Then you lead.”
Haru simply answered. Surely he was not so devious that this may have been his plan the entire time. That was not something he would do. Regardless, when Rui resettled and began guiding their very chaotic dance, Haru fell into step agilely and did not trip over again.
“Plus I was a solo acrobat, I didn’t have to keep to rhythm or anything. Just had to- swing around in the air.”
Haru insisted. Even now, the faint whistle of wind in his ears reminded him of when he soared beneath that tent, hair beating his temples. There had been timings to follow, sure, to let go and catch on correctly without crashing to the ground like a plucked chicken. Those were more instinct than anything, however. After spending hours a day up there, either you picked it up, or the other students picked you up. Off the beaten earth.
“You tell me, I know. I was there. You had some rhythm going when you were on the tightrope, didn’t you?”
The tightrope had been one of the first disciplines Haru had tried at Dionysia. He didn’t lack the skills for it by any means, good balance, careful footing, no issues with heights, but once it had to be made into a performance… Haru worked to the beat of his own drum.
“Yes, which is exactly why they took me off it after a month. I liked the trapeze and the hoop more anyway.”
And he did. The tightrope had never felt as exhilarating as his later endeavours. Even now, although he hadn’t performed in such a long time, he dreamed of the freedom of it. He could sit there and picture the roaring crowd under the dim circus, blinding spotlights that followed his every move and the metal under his chalky palms.
“Ah yes, big on shapes, but lines not so much.”
Rui laughed softly as Haru pointedly ignored the joke. He wasn’t too far off though. The Jabberwock dorm was notoriously bright and colourful, like a classroom for children, so adding shapes to the mix didn’t seem so far-fetched.
The song faded out to a different one. Rui’s movements changed slightly to adjust to the new beat, which Haru happily followed. The warm weight of Rui’s palm against his waist held him firmly in place, their other hands linked together. He wanted Rui to take off his glove, at least, to touch his prosthetic hand, but he didn’t even dare ask. Rui never would give in to that. The risk was too great.
No.
Still.
Haru couldn’t get the idea out of his mind. So much so that he forgot where his legs were, bumping his toes into one of the rebel wooden planks. Rui, trying to catch them both, fell to the side. Haru gripped Rui’s shoulder with the hand that had been resting there.
Instinctively, Rui’s arms had gone up to wrap around his head. Whether it was to protect himself as he knew no one could catch him, or to prevent such a person from accidentally touching his exposed skin, Haru didn’t know. Regardless, it wasn’t necessary as a plush purple couch caught them both. He should have been protecting a different zone. Haru’s skull smashed into Rui’s sternum, heavily knocking the breath out of his lungs.
“Oops- Sorry, Rui.”
At least he hadn’t fallen with his entire body on Rui, rather half-off the sofa as he had been further away. His legs would definitely be littered with blue and purple tomorrow.
“It’s fine-”
Rui wheezed slightly for a second, eyes fixed onto the ceiling as he caught his breath. Haru lifted his weight off Rui to help with the task, instead finding himself distracted by the defined chest in front of him. For somebody who always claimed not to be physically strong, the lines of his muscles sure were noticeable under the skin-tight covering. Rui’s arms only left his head when Haru’s fingers started following the central dip up from his belly button. He propped himself up on his elbows as Haru raised himself to his knees on the floor.
“What are you-”
Haru kept going to reach Rui’s necklace, a bar threaded in a circle attached on either side of a chain. Rui’s voice wavered when Haru grabbed the bar and cut off with a gasp when he pulled on it. The chain pulled taught against his throat, not so much that it blocked off his breathing but enough for his pupils to dilate. When he looked up at Haru, the black fought to keep back the red like a wolf surrounded.
“Ha- Harurin?”
The voice break in the middle of his name sent Haru’s stomach doing somersaults. Again, memories of his time on the trapeze pushed at the forefront of his mind. Only this time, as he let go, flying far above the ring, a powerful grip awaited him on the other side.
Haru had to rip himself away before he made a very stupid, deadly even, mistake. His haste sent the back of his skull into the table he had fallen beneath. He hissed in pain, breaking Rui out of his own spell.
“You okay?”
Haru nodded, dragging himself up from the floor, extending his metal hand out for Rui to take. Though hesitant, he eventually did, allowing himself to be pulled to stand again. He made Haru stand still while he checked the spot of the injury, to no avail.
“Your hair makes it really hard to see if you’re bleeding.”
Ignoring the radiating pain, Haru laughed. He reached up, running his free hand over the sore spot then holding it out for Rui to see. No blood marred the glove, remaining matte as ever.
“See? I’m right as rain, don’t you worry.”
In comparison, blood in Rui’s hair would be really easy to notice. It would be a lovely shade, a nice monotone colour palette. Especially when he blushed so prettily like he was at the moment. Maybe Haru should recommend for him to try dyed streaks.
“I’m… concerned about you sometimes.”
Rui watched Haru orbit around him, spinning along with his reluctance to let go of Haru’s hand. He refused to take his eyes off him for even a second, as if Haru could collapse any second. Haru enjoyed the unwavering attention. What performer didn’t hunger for the spotlight, after all?
“Aww thanks.”
Admittedly, Haru did have a bad track record of passing out, plus he had, in fact, just hit his head, so Haru couldn’t quite fault him. Still, to placate his fears, Haru dragged them both back to the bar stools.
“That was not a compliment!”
Rui protested, grip tight around Haru’s hand. He took advantage of Rui’s mild agitation to interlink their fingers together. Rui had nice hands, Haru remarked now that he could see them upclose. Feel them, even. He had taken that for granted in the past. Square palms, long fingers, thin between bony knuckles. Haru had always had rounder fingers which made them look small, but they probably measured the same as Rui’s. If they ever did compare.
“Hey.”
A gloved index gently brushed under Haru’s chin, for barely a second, bringing his gaze back up. Rui had his eyes narrowed slightly in a way Haru didn’t like. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Rui’s hand in hopes of fixing it. It worked. Somewhat.
“I’m glad you came to visit me today. I needed it.”
Rui’s low voice made a rare appearance. Getting the guy to admit any kind of emotional weakness was on par with keeping Taiga away from Peekaboo. Really tough. Haru kept in the instinctual coo in fear of Rui retreating back into his shell.
“I’m always happy to help, you know that, buddy.”
Somehow, that still wasn’t quite the right answer. Rui’s smile came shadowed. An Obscuary-worthy smile.
“I know.”
Rui let go of Haru’s hand to instead grab the forgotten drink he had poured himself before Haru even arrived. He leant over the bar to pour it out into the sink and leave the glass to wash later. No drinking.
Over on the side, the gramophone still spun its record in a dance much steadier than the one they had shared. A tube resting by the foot of a chair near the music player caught Haru’s eye. Its light, almost shimmery colour contrasted with the moody environment of the bar. Haru went off to pick it up, perhaps a pen that somebody had dropped? No, it was too short. Only when he spun it around did he realise he had seen it before. Once, just once, but one time had been enough.
The words strawberry peach jumped out in their pretty white font, not very legible against the translucent pink gloss in the tube. Haru had half a mind to give feedback on proper packaging when he heard Rui’s questioning hum behind him. The tube must have fallen out of the blazer that Rui had haphazardly left on a nearby stool.
The applicator popped when Haru pulled it out of the base. The smell hit instantly, much more peach than strawberry though he supposed that might characterise the colour rather than the scent. He didn’t think it over as he brought the little foam piece to his lips, and he certainly did not think any more when he rubbed them together to evenly distribute the sticky substance.
Rui, in turn, stopped thinking when Haru turned back towards him with a shiny mouth and a very familiar tube in his hands. Seeing this, Haru decided to go against what he had last said and to not help Rui.
“I did always wonder what you would taste like.”
Haru accompanied the sentence with a swipe of his pointed tongue. To really take in the artificial flavour of the gloss, obviously. The shortcircuit that went through Rui made him go cross-eyed for a second before blinking hard to refocus his sight. Haru closed the gloss and handed it out to Rui, who made no move to grab it. His garnet eyes were three-quarters obsidian again and only fixed on Haru’s lips.
“There’s been very few times when I’ve hated my curse as much as I do right now.”
At Rui’s retrained tone, almost growly, Haru had a thought. First, Lyca’s presence was definitely rubbing off on him. Second, maybe Rui didn’t enjoy being called buddy. Clearly not by someone who refrained from kissing him only because that would quite literally be the death of him.
The lipgloss tube smacked quietly against the bar when Haru flattened his palm on top. Leaving it there, Haru brought two fingers up to his own lips. Cold metal now covered in a thin layer of gloss, he reached out to press them against Rui’s. Heat bloomed on both their cheeks at the bold action.
“This is the best we can do for now.”
Resolve filled Haru with the idea of having the opportunity to do more in the future. An arm couldn’t be regained any more than he already had, but a curse could be broken.
Rui grabbed Haru’s wrist and kissed his knuckles, looking up through his dark lashes.
Yes, they would find a way to make it work.