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Harumasa is convinced that nothing is going his way today and this is some sick karmic joke on him from the universe for living longer than he should’ve.
For one, he could not for the life of him slip into deep sleep at all and despite getting more than six (six!!) whole hours of sleep last night, he feels like shit. He was tossing and turning all night, the sheets of his bed and pillows feeling a little too scratchy against his skin, while the room was either too cold without his blankets or too hot with them.
Secondly, today was a Paperwork Day, one of his most dreaded days out of the work week (as if he didn’t dread them all—being a corporate slave was the worst.) because that meant he was stuck behind his dingy little desk on his dingy little chair, all while staring at documents with the smallest font possible that was still professionally acceptable until it felt like his eyes were going to melt out of their sockets from all that reading he had to do.
Thirdly, and lastly, Harumasa thinks they get off of work way too late for it to be considered ethical. I mean seriously! He has to get up for work just as the sun is barely yawning over the horizon, stay locked up away in the office or the Hollows with barely any breaks in between for his poor, fragile body and when he leaves, the sun is nowhere to be found most days. If he’s lucky, Yanagi might let him see the sunset once every blue moon when he manages to finish his work for the day early (unlikely), or when he’s sent home early because he’s (feigning) not feeling well (more likely).
Unfortunately for Harumasa, today was one of those Locked-Up-In-The-Office-With-Paperwork Days and he’s used up all his sick days for the year already.
He gets home when it’s pitch black outside and his eyes are already halfway to closed shut when he’s managed to drag himself all the way back to his small apartment. In his state of exhaustion, the archer misses the meticulously polished metal of a familiar bike parked right beside his building where residents and their guests can park. With how often that bike’s been here, Harumasa just had registered it under his name so that it doesn’t get towed off somewhere and he has to pay a fee to get it back while being nagged by the owner of said bike for not registering him in the first place.
Harumasa misses the keyhole to his front door twice before he manages to stab the key in and turn the lock, no archer instincts in sight in the midst of how absolutely exhausted he was. The door clicks shut behind him when he drags his feet through the loft, barely coherent enough to remember to untie his signature yellow headband and toss it along with his tie somewhere in the direction of his couch as he meanders into the low-lit living space.
Harumasa doesn’t even react when an amused snort comes from somewhere in his living room, specifically from the big lump lounging on his couch. He’s only like, 70% sure it wasn’t him hallucinating noises through his sleep-deprived haze, but only 70% sure.
“I was about to say welcome home and ask you how your day was, but even with my shit eyes, I can tell you might start throwing things at me.” Lighter Lorenz—Champion of the Sons of Calydon, the infamous Red Scarf of the Outer Ring—lounges on Harumasa’s navy blue sofa like he owns the thing, or at the very least he paid for it (he did not). The guy made himself at home while Harumasa was out, sprawled out against the cushions with a casual t-shirt, some soft pants, and without his usual shades to hide the easy grin that has the archer’s expression twisting up like he just bit into a lemon.
“Shhhh, I don’t have the energy to deal with you sassing me right now. I’m going to die and then you’re going to get framed for my death because you broke into my apartment-” Harumasa retorts with no small amount of petulant whining in his voice as he marches over to start pacing in front of the couch, popping a few buttons at his collar along the way so that he could complain better.
“I have a spare key-” Lighter tries to interrupt, but Harumasa pretends like he doesn’t hear him and barrels on anyway.
“-and then because you were the last one to see me, they’re gonna question you and find your criminal record, and then you’re gonna get tossed behind bars, and I’m not gonna be there to bust you out, because I’m dead.”
Lighter gives him a long suffering look of amusement when he finishes his rant as if this was normal (it was) and simply pats his lap with a crooked smirk, his head tilting to the side not unlike a dog would when it’s perplexed. “Got it all out of your system?”
Harumasa glares at the biker from across the room unbudgingly, yellow eyes narrowing as Lighter only pats his lap again in response. It takes all but five seconds for the archer’s resolve to crumble and he’s slinking his way over to the couch with a heavy sigh like this was inconveniencing him in the worst ways possible.
He flops on top of Lighter, seemingly feeling greatly vindicated when the biker lets out a soft oof from the impact, before curling up in Lighter’s big strong arms like an oversized cat. “Yeah...”
He turns to tuck his face into the crook of Lighter’s neck, taking a deep inhale to reacquaint himself with the scent of motor oil, musk, and that particular brand of spicy cologne the biker loves to douse himself in—it’s familiar, it’s comforting, and it’s home. “My day was bad, if you couldn’t tell.”
That gets an amused snort out of Lighter as one of his large hands sweeps down the length of Harumasa’s spine in a gesture that was supposed to be soothing—it was, and Harumasa melts like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. “I could tell.”
The biker takes his time in walking his fingers down the length of Harumasa’s spine, tracing each boney knob with his fingertips like he hasn’t done this a thousand times before. It’s one of his favorite things at the end of the day—this intimate skinship where all he has to do is lie back and let himself melt under his champion’s careful touch. “Have you eaten yet?”
It takes Harumasa a couple of seconds and a light shake from Lighter for him to actually be awake enough to respond, too busy already dozing on top of his boyfriend-turned-human-bed. He presses a small yawn into Lighter’s shoulder, his next few words muffled into the soft cotton of his shirt. “...I had a bit at the office. I’m good for the night.”
He feels more than sees Lighter nodding along to his response, the feeling of corded muscles shifting underneath him as Lighter moves to wrap two arms around his shoulders to tuck Harumasa impossibly closer against his chest. In this position, his ear is pressed right over where Lighter’s heart is, the slow and steady metronome of his heartbeat coaxing him like a siren’s call into sleep. He’s always found it easier to just give in when there’s another person around, when he can just simply follow the rhythm of another when it comes to how he should act, how he should feel, how he should be—Lighter just so happens to be his person and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Things are just easier with him.
“Wanna take a quick bath before bed?” The deep rumble of the biker’s voice has his eyes fluttering open, the vibrations of Lighter’s voice through his chest and into Harumasa’s ear reminds him that yes, they were still in the middle of a conversation. He reluctantly peels his eyes back open again, the beginnings of a pout forming when his nose starts to crinkle in displeasure. Lighter sees this and just gives him a soft smile and a light tap to the nose with a finger. “I’ll wash your hair for you.”
That gets a low groan from Harumasa where he’s buried his face into the biker’s shoulder, nuzzling even closer as if he was trying to climb into Lighter’s skin and hide there. He knows he’s just whining for the sake of it, that a hot bath sounds like heaven right now, but the fact that Lighter knows exactly what he needs is not something his poor, fragile heart and muddled brain can handle right now. He hides his painfully fond expression against Lighter’s neck, mouthing at the warm skin at the junction of the biker’s jaw in a lazy attempt at a kiss. “You’re killing me here, babe.”
“I’m trying to do the opposite, but whatever.” Lighter deadpans, but that doesn’t hide the sound of a smile in his voice. He gives Harumasa all but three seconds to brace before he scoops the archer up into his arms and stands like it was nothing, only giving a small grunt when he pushes up to his feet (like an old man, Harumasa would usually say). Lighter cradles him close to his chest, holding him carefully like something precious. Harumasa feels precious whenever Lighter makes sure to fix his hold against Harumasa’s back and behind his knees so that he doesn’t accidentally hurt him anywhere—it’s the little gestures like this that makes the archer so unbearably fond every time. “Up we go.”
“You’re doing all the work, I’m too tired to even open my eyes right now.” Harumasa laments with a dramatic swoon, just to mess with him, even going so far as to go limp in Lighter’s arms when the guy lifts him up in a princess carry. Sue him for taking advantage of his unfairly hot and strong boyfriend, but Harumasa loves it when Lighter effortlessly manhandles him around like he weighed nothing. He deserves to be pampered after a long day at work!
“I’m well aware. Don’t worry, just sit back and let me take care of you.” True to his word, Lighter makes his way towards the bathroom where he knows a big tub sits, one that Harumasa loves indulging in after a long, stressful day at work. It’s a bathroom where Lighter knows where every shampoo bottle sits and what type of soap scents Harumasa prefers as he sets the archer on the bathroom counter and gets to rummaging through the cabinets for a specific bottle of bath oil as the tub fills behind him.
Harumasa has half a mind to start poking the guy with his toes just to mess with him but refrains (just barely) because he’s too tired to win a wrestling match right now. Instead, he sits perched on the bathroom counter, humming to himself as he waits for his bath. “Mm... Even if that includes making you open my eyes for me?”
“Even if that includes making me open your eyes for you.” Lighter promises in an incredibly fond voice that Harumasa will never get tired of hearing. He certainly does want to hear it more, to coax out that softer and sweeter side of Lighter that he knows only he gets to see, but it’s just too bad because he’ll never stop being annoying enough for Lighter to voluntarily let himself be subjected to being teased by the archer 24/7. That man is as stubborn as a mule and just as prideful, so it’s no wonder that the biker’s soft smile turns teasing at the edge as he starts to help Harumasa out of his shirt like the big mother hen that he was—he gives as good as he gets. “I’ll even help you blink them too, if that’s what you want.”
“My knight in shining armor. What would I do without you?” It’s said with a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lip as Harumasa looks down at Lighter’s handsome face, taking a few seconds to just simply look his fill as the biker steps up and in between his legs with an equally amused look. He doesn’t say anything else and Harumasa can appreciate that. He’s always enjoyed the fact that the two of them can go from bickering back and forth like they’ve been doing this for years, to just simply sitting and basking in each other’s company with not even a word between them. Lighter’s not hard to please as long as he can be close, and the archer finds that he’s quickly beginning to understand that sentiment too.
Large, warm hands drop on his legs, squeezing the meat of his thighs gently before sliding down to rest on top of his knees as Lighter steps close enough to bump their foreheads together with a lazy grin. The look in those green-red eyes practically steals Harumasa’s breath away, and yet there’s no other person he’d willingly give all that he is to, especially if it gets him such a handsome smile in return. “You’d probably have really dry eyes without me.”
That gets a startled laugh out of him, the sound reverberating against the bathroom tiles as Lighter’s grin only grows wider. Harumasa lifts his arms to wind behind his champion’s neck, dragging him the last few remaining inches forwards so that he could taste his lips after a day of missing them. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep you for a little while longer.”
“Can’t really complain about that.” Lighter murmurs softly against his lips, dipping his head back in to steal another kiss Harumasa so willingly gives up to him. It’s soft and sweet, something they’ve been getting used to more often these days. It gives him something to look forward to, something to come home to. Yet the biker pulls away much too soon for Harumasa’s liking, forcing him to crane his neck forward just to try and chase his lips only to be met with cool air and a smirking Lighter.
“C’mon, let’s get you in the bath now or the water’ll get cold.” Calloused hands start working at his belt, tugging it open and then working to slide his slacks off. Harumasa instantly pulls his knees up to stop Lighter, a mischievous grin plastered on his face when the biker just looks up with an unfazed expression like he’s used to fighting the guy just to get his clothes off (he was).
“Take a guy out to dinner first before you start undressing him! Gosh, you’re such a pervert, Lighter!” Harumasa crows, covering his chest with his arms in a scandalized manner even as he lets Lighter straighten his legs out again with one hand as the other yanks his pants and boxers down in one go. He lets out a squawk of protest as the cool marble of the bathroom counter touches his bare ass and he pounces on Lighter to chase the chills away with his body heat.
Unfazed, the biker makes quick work of the rest of his work uniform, tossing them aside without even batting an eye at all the yowling from Harumasa like he was dealing with a misbehaving cat instead of his obnoxious boyfriend. “I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count, what the fuck you are talking about. I’ve literally been inside yo-”
“Can’t hear you! I’m getting in the bath now!” Harumasa slides into the bath with only minimal splashing (because he knows it’ll piss Lighter off if he gets his sleep clothes wet after he’s already changed—spoken from experience, of course) and a small sigh of content as the warm water wraps around him like a hug. It does wonders on his aching bones and he sinks down to his chin in the soapy water with a pleased hum as his eyes flutter shut.
He can hear Lighter moving around beside the tub for a moment, presumably folding his clothes and putting it into the hamper (he’s trained him well!) before he comes to plop down next to the tub. Only then do yellow eyes blink open again, a tiny little smile gracing Harumasa’s lips when he’s face to face with Lighter’s own handsomely lopsided grin. “Hi.”
“Hey yourself. Still want me to wash your hair for you?” Lighter offers, though he’s already reaching over to grab the few soap bottles lined up along the side of the tub. It’s a mix of whatever brands they both like using, though these days it’s hard to tell whose is whose. Harumasa knows for a fact that some days he’ll steal Lighter’s soap just to be able to smell like him for a day when the biker is in the Outer Ring, and he also knows that his expensive shampoo and conditioner runs out a lot faster when Lighter is staying over.
Harumasa sinks lower into the water until only his mouth is just barely above it, his words coming out as bubbles every time he speaks. “You’ll get wet.”
“I don’t mind.” Lighter shrugs like it’s no big deal, as if he hasn’t nagged at Harumasa for making him change so many times in the past before. It’s suspicious, but Harumasa doesn’t voice it out loud.
“Use the new shampoo and conditioner, please.” is what he demands instead, all haughty and petulant in the way that always makes Lighter laugh at him for it. It’s no different this time when the biker snorts in wry amusement, obediently nodding along as he grabs the two bottles from where they sit and gets to work.
“Sure, sure. Sit up a bit for me, sweetheart.” Harumasa sits back against the tub at Lighter’s instruction and he’s struck with an overwhelming amount of fondness when he realizes that Lighter must’ve warmed up the side of the tub with some water before getting him to sit up. He must’ve noticed the archer whining about the cold tile against his bare skin earlier and so that probably clued him in to prevent it from happening again (probably to keep the archer from whining again). Harumasa probably would’ve turned around and smacked a big fat kiss onto Lighter’s lips if the guy didn’t dump a whole bucket of water on his head right at that moment.
“Hey-!” It comes out as a half-gurgle as water sloshes down his neck and shoulders. His head whips to the side to glare at Lighter, but he’s sure he just looks like a wet cat. Lighter’s laughter confirms his suspicions as the guy just reaches out to pour another cup of water over his head again, this time much slower and gentler so that it avoids his eyes and mouth.
“Had to get your hair wet, my bad.” Lighter apologizes with a look that says he’s fighting back another laugh, sounding the least apologetic ever—asshole!
“My bad?!? You just tried to waterboard me!” He tries to sit up, water sloshing against the sides of the tub as Harumasa huffs and puffs in faux anger, yet Lighter just calmly pushes him back down into the water again with a grin that says he’s having the time of his life right now.
“But I didn’t, so technically you can’t yell at me because I didn’t succeed.”
Harumasa’s responding glare is withering, scathing even, at least until deft hands start massaging the sudsy shampoo into his hair and all the fight drains from his bones. Lighter’s fingers work the soap into his hair, clever fingers scratching at Harumas’s scalp in just the way he likes it—not too hard yet just enough to scratch that itch he always forgets was there. If he could purr, he’d give Lighter’s bike engine a run for its money.
He can hear the amused snort Lighter lets out behind him, but Harumasa resolutely ignores the guy and sinks further down the back of the tub in pure bliss, feeling the weight he was carrying around all day draining from his bones with every passing second in the quiet of his tiny bathroom and the one person strong enough to carry the weight for him.
The biker goes through Harumasa’s routine like it was his own—lather, rinse, conditioner, and then rinse again—and the two of them sit quietly for a moment as Lighter waits for the conditioner to settle in his dark navy locks. He seems content to just sit there and sift his fingers through Harumasa’s hair, smoothing out any tangles and just brushing his bangs back to expose his forehead while the archer does his best not to fall asleep right then and there. He’s never fought harder in his life, trying to stay awake, but he’s afraid it’s going to be a losing battle if Lighter keeps petting him like that.
“I gotta rinse out your hair, Haru. Chin up, otherwise I’m gonna attempt to waterboard you again.” Harumasa nearly shoots up in the tub (more like sitting up slowly because he’s sleepy and tired, but semantics) and he side eyes Lighter the entire time as the biker starts to rinse out his hair with gentle hands and an even gentler smile. He’s careful this time to keep any water out of his eyes, cupping one large hand at the top of the archer’s forehead and smoothing his hair back so keep the waterflow away. It’s another one of Lighter’s sweet gestures that Harumasa’s had the privilege of getting used to these past few months, but he’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to it even if he gets to enjoy it for many more months to come—it’s just so painfully sweet that he might as well add diabetes to his medical record.
“I’ll waterboard you...” He grumbles petulantly, just to get the last word in.
“You do that, sweetheart.” Lighter says in a way that you’d speak to a child while trying to appease it. Harumasa has some more choice words about that, but he figures he’ll just save it for another time when he’s not boneless and naked in his bathtub while being five seconds away from knocking out.
He lets Lighter do all the hard lifting, more than happy to just sit back and let the biker lift him up after the water’s all drained, two hands under his arms like a child and then patting him down with a fluffy dry towel. He only makes a few noises of protest when Lighter gets a bit too rough drying his hair, but he’s happy enough with being pampered to really complain. It’s nice to let someone else take the reins for once, and it’s even nicer to know that someone else cares enough to take the burden off his hands.
Lighter steps back after a moment when Harumasa’s all nice and mostly dry, tossing the damp towel into the hamper beside the shower. He turns back to eye the archer, his eyes crinkling at the corners when drowsy yellow eyes blink back at him slowly, as if it was a struggle to peel them back open after closing them for barely a second. “Am I dressing you too, or can you handle that on your own?”
“Too sleepy... Dress me too.” The archer whines, leaning forwards to bump his head into Lighter’s chest. He leaves a little damp spot on the guy’s shirt, though Lighter looks too endeared to really protest. This is how he’s managed to train Lighter in the first place after all—get all cute and irresistible and his champion can never deny him, even if Lighter protests all the way during. Because that was just who Lighter was—he’s a man of pride and loyalty and anyone he swears himself to, he’d stick by their side ‘till the end. And thus, his own pride and loyalty lands himself right where Harumasa wants him—in his tiny little apartment that barely fits two, in his hectic life where he forgets what it’s like to truly live some days, and most importantly, in his heart.
Lighter’s hands land on the archer’s arms to hold him still for a moment and then he’s coaxing Harumasa along with a gentle voice, the one that’s all rumbly and raspy and sounds like the current over a riverbed, guiding him into pulling his clothes on one by one. “Alright. Step into your boxers for me then, sweetheart. We’ll get you into bed real soon, promise.”
“Well, get me into bed sooner ‘cause I’m about to fall asleep right here.” Despite his complaining, Harumasa lets Lighter help him into a fresh pair of boxers and then wrinkles his nose when the biker pulls a large shirt over his head, pressing a fleeting kiss to his nose when his head pops out of the neckline. It’s a familiar shirt, worn from over the years of wear and tear, and one he remembers Lighter wearing just last week. He can’t really tell the difference between their things anymore and he hasn’t questioned why his normally half-empty closet suddenly had a little less space and a little more clothes that didn’t belong to him.
“Now we can’t have that happening now, can we?” Lighter pulls back with a warm smile, one that makes the butterflies in his stomach start acting up again right up until Lighter leans down to hook an arm under Harumasa’s knees and hauls him up again like a sack of potatoes. “Upsy daisy.”
“Upsy daisy? I’m your boyfriend, not some kid.” Despite his petulant pout, Harumasa instinctively wraps his arms around Lighter’s shoulders to steady himself, taking advantage of the fact that the biker’s hands are too busy to stop him from jabbing Lighter’s cheek with a finger. The guy plays along and pretends to nip at his fingertips, letting Harumasa feel the dimples that grow in his cheeks every time he smiles.
“Sometimes you act like it, so I’d say it’s deserved. Aren’t you always ragging on me for not giving you the princess treatment more often?” Lighter teases, a look on his face that says he’s won this argument because unfortunately for Harumasa, he does since the archer has nothing to say in response to that.
He just lets his head drop onto Lighter’s shoulder instead, content to let himself be carried to his bedroom where he knows his beloved bed with soft sheets and comfy pillows awaits him after a long day. Maybe he’s more exhausted than he realizes and Lighter, the ever-vigilant hound, picks up on that because he sets the archer down gently on the mattress when he would usually toss him unceremoniously into bed because he thinks it’s funny (it is).
Harumasa doesn’t protest when he feels the biker pull the sheets out from underneath him. He doesn’t protest when Lighter tucks them around him either, cocoonning him in a lump of warmth that chases away the perpetual cold that rests in his bones, but he does protest when he feels the other start to move away.
One arm shoots out from the blanket cocoon, quick as a whip, to snag Lighter’s shirt. “Stay... Come cuddle me.”
It’s said so softly, so quietly that Lighter would’ve missed it if it were anybody else. Harumasa just knows he pays extra attention to him, and it works in his favor because the biker stays anchored to his spot on the edge of the bed, an overly fond look on his face. He knows he’s being a little clingy right now, but he’s tired and all he wants to do is sleep for 20 hours in his boyfriend’s arms—sue him!
“Relax, I was just gonna turn off the lights.” Lighter reaches out to ruffle his hair a little bit, chuckling to himself when Harumasa just whines and burrows even deeper underneath the sheets in protest. He presses a silent apology in the form of a chaste kiss to the top of the archer’s forehead before he moves away, padding silently over to the doorway to flip the lights off. The time it takes for Lighter to move to the other side of the room and back to the bed is like an eternity and then some to Harumasa, whose face is pulled into a displeased pout when he gets back.
He goes to silently lift the sheets up for Lighter, waiting patiently until the biker slides under the covers before the archer is immediately scooting right into his space like he owned it. That just gets a chuckle out of Lighter, who takes the opportunity to sweep a large, warm hand down the length of his back with unbearable amounts of fondness. “Better?”
“Much.” Harumasa agrees, pushing his face into the crook of Lighter’s neck and wrapping his long arms around his waist. It’s his favorite position, one that Lighter calls his Hot Octopus position because the guy says it gets way too hot way too fast and that he can’t even move because Harumasa is trying to squeeze him to death the entire time—Harumasa begs to differ because Lighter lets him do it in the first place, so is he really the one at fault here?
He’s halfway to becoming a puddle of goo, all wrapped up in a fresh set of clothes and warm blankets when he’s pulled back back into the waking world by Lighter poking his cheek. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me just yet.”
“Why nottt.” Harumasa doesn’t even bother hiding the whine in his voice this time.
“Just ‘cause,” Lighter shrugs a shoulder, unrepentant as he pulls back just enough to look at Harumasa properly, just enough to steal away the warm spot the archer made for himself against his chest. “Stay awake a lil’ longer for me, sweetheart. I haven’t seen you all day—I just wanna see you now.”
“You can see me while I’m sleeping.” Harumasa grumbles, but he begrudgingly opens his eyes anyway, even if it’s just to half-heartedly glare at his boyfriend’s stupid smirking face. He has half a mind to turn around and steal all the blankets and leave Lighter to freeze his ass off during the night.
He feels more than hears the deep chuckle that resonates through the biker’s chest, pressed so closely they were. That gets him feeling a little more awake, a little more alert as he takes a moment to actually look at the man in front of him. He’s always known Lighter was handsome, but it’s hard to deny the fact that he’s also someone so pretty—gentle eyes that’s seen everything Harumasa’s had to offer and still likes him anyways, a smile that’s always just a little bit crooked and gives him that rugged charm.
He’s halfway to distraction already when Lighter takes his chance to sneak an arm underneath him to draw him in close. Harumasa goes easily like a fish in the current, content to drift to the river’s will. Dark eyelashes flutter for a brief moment when he’s drawn into a soft kiss, Lighter’s lips pressed perfectly to his own in a kiss that ends much too soon for his liking. “Missed you.”
He can taste the words on Lighter’s tongue, so close they were. Harumasa mimics the action too and presses his own words to the biker’s lips when he leans in to kiss him again. “I missed you too... Sorry for being so tired.”
“I get it, you got a lot going on. You know I’d never be upset with you for something you can’t really control.” Lighter’s words are soft and soothing, something meant to comfort and yet his words are so understanding it almost makes Harumasa feel bad when he thinks about all the hours he’s spent slacking off at work or trying to play hooky with the video store managers. In his defense, he’s actually working most of the time!
“Keep talking like that and I’m gonna have to kiss you again... You know I can’t stand it when you’re being so nice to me.” Harumasa pretends to sink his fangs into Lighter’s lip in warning and Lighter pretends to wince. He knows it didn’t hurt at all (besides the fact that he didn’t even bite that hard!) because he can feel the biker smirk against his mouth in turn.
“You’re so weird for that, you know? I thought you liked me and yet here you are, always threatening me.” Lighter murmurs, shifting onto his side some more to let Harumasa pillow his head on one arm while the other drapes across the archer’s waist like a comforting weight.
“With a good time.” Harumasa corrects with a sniff. “Threatening you with a good time. It’s called cuteness aggression and I have a severe case.”
He can hear Lighter audibly stifle a laugh, clearly playing along when he looks at him with hooded eyes and no small amount of amusement sparkling in those green-red eyes. It makes Harumasa want to kiss him all the more whenever he looks at him like that, like there’s nothing Lighter would rather do than spend the rest of his life playing along with whatever scheme Harumasa is planning. Maybe if he plays his cards right, Harumasa would let him. “Yeah? Well then, what’s the cure?”
“Dunno, but I think kissing some more might help.” Harumasa responds, wholly sincere save for the grin on his face that grows wider with each passing second.
“Now that’s something I can definitely do...” In turn, Lighter nods along just as sincerely playful, the infectious smile spreading to his face when he steals it from Harumasa’s lips by leaning in to kiss him yet again.
The archer’s arms immediately rise to wrap around Lighter’s neck like they’ve always belonged there, dragging him close and keeping him closer as Harumasa angles his chin upwards to slot their lips together at just the right angle to feel it when Lighter’s breath hitches in ecstasy. It’s just a tiny little hiccup, a little stutter in his heartbeat that Harumasa’s remembered from practicing this dance over and over, again and again until both of them are breathless and aching.
He knows just when Lighter gets heated, when large hands start roaming and sneaking out the hem of his shirt to sneak underneath and map the lines of his body like an explorer studying a map of his voyage. He knows just when Lighter starts to shift, pressing him down into soft sheets as he moves on top of him because Harumasa always lets out the softest of moans whenever he feels all that solid weight pressing down on him in a way that’s not stifling, but feels just right. In the back of his mind—the very back of his mind that’s not focused on the way his champion licks into his mouth and twines their tongues together—Harumasa recognizes a faint chime from a phone tossed somewhere on the bedside table. Still, he’s too distracted by fisting his hand into Lighter’s dark hair and dragging him down to test his memory of the biker’s lips again to really think twice about it.
Yet to his surprise tonight, what he doesn’t recognize is when Lighter starts to pull away just as his own hands start to slip into the elastic of the biker’s sweats, sneaking cool fingertips down the band and down to caress heated skin before they slip further down to where he knows they both want to be. A string of saliva keeps their lips connected for a brief moment as Lighter pulls back, the string stretching thin before it snaps as Harumasa looks up at him with dazed yellow eyes and endless questions.
Before he could say something like Why’d you stop? or Keep going please, Lighter beats him to the punch first.
The biker reaches up to cup his cheek tenderly, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss to the center of his forehead as if his tongue wasn’t just down Harumasa’s throat not even five seconds ago and whispers, “Happy birthday, Harumasa.”
It’s like a punch in the gut when he realizes what just happened.
All the pampering, all the soft kisses and even softer touches, and then that little notification that went off—he glances at the clock on the wall—at the strike of midnight. He should’ve known what was happening from the very moment he walked in and saw that Lighter was waiting for him. He’s the biggest sap Harumasa has ever known and by a long shot too. He should’ve known that today would’ve been no different, that Lighter—with all his painfully stupid good intentions and bleeding heart—would’ve remembered Harumasa’s birthday where he himself forgot all about it.
He also should’ve known that Lighter would’ve wanted to be the very first person to wish him a happy birthday—that competitive bastard. And yet, Harumasa can’t even be mad that the guy kept him up because, damnit, that’s his competitive bastard.
Harumasa laughs a little, disbelief coloring his voice and when he speaks next, it’s a little shaky yet still full of gratitude. There’s a little something extra too, a little something that’s been growing steady in his chest for a long while now, yet he hasn’t thrust it out into the sun yet, preferring to keep it cradled close to his heart for a little while longer until he’s confident enough that it’ll be able to sprout into something wonderful in due time.
Yellow eyes look up at Lighter, a little wet at the edges, and Harumasa says with all his heart and then some, “Thank you, Lighter.”