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The sun that shines through their living room window in the afternoon is always brilliant as it stains the room golden, lighting every corner and warming Makoto’s face as he sips his tea. The television has long since been turned off, and now the only sounds filling the room are the sounds of the fan in the corner, Makoto’s own breathing, and the soft splash of Haruka occasionally shifting in the bath down the hall. The other male has been in the water for an hour now, but every time he’d told him he should get out Haruka just commentsed on how he was already a prune. Eventually Makoto just stopped trying. Makoto’s eyes are drooping in lethargy, the warmth of the room kept comfortable and dry by the fan. A column of warmth presses against his thigh and he squints down at Homuri, the pale white cat pressing himself against the fabric of Makoto’s pant rubs his cheek against the human, a soft meow escaping it’s open mouth.
A wrinkled hand reaches down to pet the animals head, and soon the rumble of purring adds to the soft noises in the room. Homuri had been a gift two Christmas eves ago from Kou-chan and Seijurou-kun’s daughter, a beautiful red-headed girl who had found the kitten loitering outside of his and Haru’s house that night. Makoto’s eyes wrinkle in the corners as he smiles at the thought of the now elderly couple, and he sips his tea once more. But as he pulls the cup away from his lips, his grip loosens and the cup drops into his lap, the porcelain bouncing off of his thigh and onto the floor, spilling across the tatami mats. Homuri startles at this, jerking up, and eventually leaving the room as Makoto sighs, hands on his knees. He reaches across the table to the towel sitting beside the tea pot, and turns to pat at the spill.
“Again?” A voice calls from the doorway, and Makoto turns towards it. Haruka stands there, towel held around his waist and another one slung around his neck, catching the dripping water from his thinning hair.
“Yes.” Makoto sighs again turning back around to the stain as Haruka walks to the kitchen, but pulls away when the other male returns with a warm wet paper towel to wipe away the remaining color in the mat. He sighs when the naked man takes the towels used to clean the spill back into the kitchens. Makoto sits in the silence, staring at his lap where his hands lay. Makoto flexed his fingers, frowning when he can’t straighten them out, nor make a fist without pain.
Haruka walks back into the room, now fully clothed, but with the towel previously around his neck now spread over his head and Makoto sighs once more.
“Stop that.” Haruka says as he sits beside Makoto at the table.
“Stop what?” He asks reaching out with his hands to curve his hands around Haru’s covered head, he smiles when the curved position doesn’t send pain lacing through his knuckles and starts to quickly, but gently tousle Haru’s hair.
“Sighing like that.” Haru’s voice is muffled through the towel, but his blue eyes burn in the sunlight when Makoto pulls the towel away. “I may be loosing my hearing, but I can feel you sigh from across the house.”
Makoto chuckles , hands threading through Haru’s hair.
“You need a haircut.” He comments.
“You need glasses.” Haruka replies.
“You need a hearing aid.” Makoto shoots back.
“What did you say? I didn’t hear you.” That sentence, paired with Haruka’s stoic expression sends Makoto into a giggling fit.
“You are a grown man.” Haruka’s mask drops and he smiles, rolling his soft eyes.
“And you’re a 13 year old boy in an 85 year old body.” Makoto barks out between laughs. Haruka huffs and Makoto watches as the man pouts. Goodness, Haruka never would have done this 30 years ago. Makoto leans forward to peck one wrinkled cheek. Then the other. Then a nose, crooked from being broken. Then a leathery forehead. And finally Haruka’s waiting lips, smiles making the kiss slow and happy. Makoto breaks the kiss, and presses their foreheads together, hands cupping Haruka’s face. This close, he can see every gorgeous detail in Haruka’s eyes, changed, but still unchanged by their years together. A biting, bitter sweetness pinches his chest and he shuts his eyes.
Behind them he sees a blond that grew tall in the years nobody was looking and a bespeckled boy smiling at him. He remembers the dark haired boy they adopted, a boy that would one day marry Kou-chan’s daughter, and how his friends had smiled the day they took him home. Papa and Pops. Rei and Nagisa. He remembers something else too.
Makoto’s arms drop to wrap around Haru’s shoulders, this hug tight and needy. Haru’s hands brace against Makoto’s back. He doesn't need to dwell on those thoughts. Nagisa died in a car wreck at 46 and Rei had lived without him until 67, his breath stolen by rattling, tumorous lungs in the night. They had raised a fine son, a man that took care of his wife and two children well, and Kou-chan’s daughter kept the family in touch.
His hug doesn't relax as he was reminded of Rin, amazing Rin, who accomplished his dream and who’s passing was freshest. 5 years. Makoto misses their new years meet ups so much. Makoto buries his face in Haruka’s neck.
“I miss them.” That simple sentence, and Haruka is laying them down, letting Makoto straighten his legs out beneath the table, and tucking his chin beneath the larger male’s. The position is cramped but does the job of steadying Makoto’s stuttering breath, the scent of Haru’s shampoo calming.
“I…miss them too.” Haruka admits. The sunlight is fading in the window as Haru talks.
“But…we’ll be with them soon. You know Nagisa and Rin, they’d get mad if we gave up after coming so far.” Haruka chuckles. “I can here them now, ‘Haru-chan! Mako-chan! What are you doing here so early!’ and Rin would just cuss us out in english.”
Makoto smiles. “What about Rei?”
“Rei…would try to act big. But you know him, he’d eventually break down and cry, ‘Waaah! I missed you two so much!’The big baby.” Haruka’s words draw a wet laugh from Makoto.
There is a moment of silence, where Homuri climbs atop them, settling in the dip between their pudgy stomachs, meowing loudly. Makoto pulls back to fondly run a hand along the animals back. As Homuri settles down between them they lie there, the room darkening further as twilight approaches. Makoto stares into Haruka’s eyes, counting flecks of blue, as Haruka stareds back at Makoto, counting the freckles across his nose.
“Do you think they’re waiting for us?” Makoto asks.
Haruka thinks for a moment.
“No. They know we’re coming. They know we’ll find them.”
Makoto’s smile is lazy and satisfied and he kisses Haruka once more.
“I love you.”Makoto says.
Haruka grins.
“I know.”
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Ruining the moment.”