Chapter Text
Taki seems to be on a capital-m Mission. By Harua’s count, across the past two fansign events, he’s tried to get most of the members. None of his kisses had landed, but Taki was not put off by this, he never was; the members indulged him in other ways, like Nicholas tangling his fingers into the loose braid of his sweater sleeve to play with him, or Jo (somewhat unexpectedly) playing along and miming kissing him back.
It’s not a bad thing, not at all - it’s just more than he usually does. Taki is always clinging to them, especially in the dorm, and he often tries to kiss them, but he doesn’t often try to kiss them all at once or all on camera. Even as they’re piling into the vans to head home after this last fansign, he’s leaning over to try and press a kiss to Euijoo’s shoulder.
(Taki is denied the kiss, but it’s with soft breathy giggles and gentle tickles under the chin. Euijoo is smiling fondly at him, and Taki looks content either way, if his closed eyes and tired-but-warm smile have anything to say about it.)
Harua and Yuma are sitting in the back of the van behind Euijoo and Taki. They’ve been driving for a few minutes when Harua leans into Yuma’s space, hoping the rumble of the van and the thick, warm silence that comes from a long day will mask his voice.
“You noticed too, right?” He whispers as quietly as possible. Neither Euijoo nor Taki move, too engrossed in what they’re doing.
“Eh? What do you mean?” One of Yuma’s eyebrows is furrowed and the other has quirked up just a little at him. Harua stifles a laugh at just how much like a rumpled cat he looks.
“Taki,” he waves a hand forward to the boy in question, “the kissing.”
“Oh.” Yuma tilts his head, considers for a second. “Yeah I guess he’s tried more than usual the past few days, hasn’t he?”
Harua shakes the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands before clapping them together gently in excitement. “I knew it! He’s tried to kiss so many of us! I’m not complaining, but do you think something is up with him?”
Yuma shrugs noncommittally. Taki seems fine to him, just a little… extra. He’s probably fine, honestly, and he tells Harua as much. Harua seems dubious, but drops it until they get back to their dorm for while they’re in Korea. The other van had arrived first, judging by the all the shoes by the doorway, and this is proven when Maki grabs one of each of their arms as soon as they walk in the door and pulls them into the empty kitchen, eyes wide. Yuma feels real concern grip him for a second, until Maki opens his mouth and out spills, “have you guys noticed Taki needing to kiss lately?” Oh brother.
“Not you too, Maki,” Yuma groans, pushing his hands against his face. “He’s probably fine, you two are just taking it out of proportion.”
“But how do you know for sure, huh? Maybe he’s sick!”
Harua snorts. “Yeah, lovesick maybe.”
Maki, affronted, lunges for Harua. Yuma sighs and lets them chase each other around the kitchen and living room for a moment before chiming back in.
“So, what, you think if he gets kissed he’ll stop?” Harua and Maki stop in their tracks like they’re cartoon characters. It rips a snort of laughter out of Yuma before he can stop it. They race back over to him and Harua looks entirely too excited.
“Yuma-kun you’re a genius! ” His eyes are sparkling mischievously. Oh no. Yuma has a sinking feeling he’s said exactly the wrong thing.
“Woah there- it’s not like one of us can just kiss him or whatever!” He reaches up to grab Harua’s shoulders. “Come on, think about it for a sec-”
Harua crosses his arms and levels Yuma with a haughty stare. “I would kiss him.”
“...Huh?” Yuma isn’t sure what else to say. Is there another way to respond to that?
“I said I would kiss him,” Harua says even firmer this time, tilting his head in a way that almost feels judgemental, “are you saying you wouldn’t kiss him?”
Yuma drops his arms from Harua’s shoulders. Suddenly there’s not a single thought in his head besides images of Harua kissing Taki, then anyone else kissing Taki. He’s not sure he likes these thoughts that much, nor the strange twist of hot jealousy that settles in the pit of his stomach because of them. “...I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, crossing his arms.
“Great!” Harua smiles then, all honey and innocence, “then one of us should do it, don’t you think?”
Maki laughs, “what, like a race? Oh that’ll be fun to watch, I can’t wait to see his reaction. It’ll be so funny!”
Yuma squeezes his eyes shut tight enough that spots start to swirl around in his eyelids. What on earth is he going to do with these kids? He should just shoo the maknaes off to bed, but he can’t seem to wrestle the thought of Taki kissing someone out of his head. And unfortunately for him, he’s nothing if not fiercely competitive, especially against the younger members. So when he opens his eyes he simply sighs and rubs a hand over his face, followed by a half-exasperated “Sure! Why not, what’s the worst that could happen.”
The grin on Maki’s face is almost concerningly gleeful. “How about this: whoever goes through with it and kisses him back first, I’ll give you 1,000 yen. But HE has to instigate it.”
Yuma snorts. Harua laughs and claps a couple times. The prize is essentially nothing at all, 1,000 yen could get a packet of ramen and maybe a soda at the konbini nearest to their dorm in Japan, and yet…
“Deal,” Yuma says with a little smirk, sticking his hand out to Harua. Harua grips it with his own broad smile and they shake.
“You’re so on.”