#babbitly

If Kuramochi had any ability to understand the being that was Miyuki Kazuya, he wouldn’t be surprised by what he finds upon walking into their apartment after a tiring day at work. He’s first assaulted by a glaringly loud christmas song on their speakers, some tune he knows, but the singer is almost shrieking with their attempt to hit some high note, and it’s terrible. Terrible. Kuramochi scrunches his forehead, turns into the kitchen to shut off the speaker they keep in there, and stops dead in his tracks. Their kitchen is a mess. A complete fucking mess. The stove is on. There’s some white substance boiling over in a pot on one of the burners, which Kuramochi immediately pulls onto an unheated eye, and shuts off the stove. There’s brown powder all over the counters and familiar handprints throughout the mess.

“What the fuck, Kazuya?” Kuramochi barks, not loud enough to be heard over the Christmas music, walking through the kitchen doorway to the living room, yanking Miyuki’s phone from the speaker as he goes, and down the hall into their living room. “Are you an id-” but he stops short when he sees Miyuki’s mess of brown hair amidst a pile of garbage.

Literally, Miyuki is laying in a pile of garbage.

Occasionally, and unfortunately, Kuramochi has moments of pure insanity where those stupid little things that make up Miyuki Kazuya, (his dumb hair, his always slightly crooked hat, his almost evil smile, the stunts he pulls that Kuramochi let’s him get away with) get to him and make him feel like a teenage girl with a stupid crush.

And this is one of those times.

There Miyuki is, laying in the middle of the living room, covered in bows and wrapping paper remnants, as he sleeps with his head pillowed in his arms. His glasses are skewed, almost falling sideways off the bridge of his nose, and he’s drooling onto his sweatshirt.

What a wreck.

Kuramochi feels his stomach twist slightly, flipping minutely, he chops it down to not having eaten dinner yet, and walks towards Miyuki, trying to step around the wrapping paper bits that litter their previously spotless floor. As Kuramochi walks around the large chair in the living room, he sees the mass of presents that are now underneath their christmas tree, could it even be called a tree? An abomination seemed more fitting, it was about 4 feet tall and had baseballs all over it. Baseballs.

“I saw it on ESPN’s website,” Miyuki had cackled, hanging up the last baseball ornament, the last of sixty of them that he had ordered from some sketchy website. He was probably going to get his credit card number stolen. “You’re supposed to pick a theme for your tree,Youichi,” He’d said with his back to Kuramochi as he crouched low looking for the best spot for the ornament, sounding all pompous about his knowledge of decorating a fucking tree, “ And some guy on their website did basketball, so I picked baseball. Now help me look for the perfect spot.”

Kuramochi had almost told him to shove it up his ass as the perfect spot but before the words could connect to his mouth Miyuki had turned around, pivoting himself in his crouch to grab Kuramochi’s hand, Miyuki’s hand warm and always familiar, and pull him closer. He stood up, pressed his lips against the crease between Kuramochi’s eyebrows and pushed the ornament into his palm.

“Pick a spot.” He’d said, pulling back from him and grinning, always fucking grinning, “But don’t pick a shitty spot.”

“It’s one goddamn ornament you asshole.” Kuramochi had grumbled, leaving his one hand wrapped around Miyuki’s and reaching forward to stick the ornament somewhere without really even looking.

“There.”

“It’s perfect.” Miyuki said, the light from the tree reflecting off his glasses.

“Well at least you didn’t fuck it up, Kazuya.” Kuramochi said, not wanting to bolster his ego anymore than he needed to.

Kuramochi watched as the grin curled itself on to Miyuki’s face, so he braced himself for the stupidity that was about to pour out of his boyfriend’s mouth, “Now buy me presents so we can fill up the tree.”

Of all the things Kuramochi did in life, he was sure falling in love with Miyuki Kazuya was the dumbest decision he’d ever made. He ruins everything, makes jokes at the most inopportune moments, does everything according to his own rules, and infuriates Kuramochi like no one has any business to.

But he also made it all infinitely better.

Like this stupid baseball tree.

It was probably the dumbest Christmas tree Kuramochi had ever seen but….it was perfect.

Kuramochi sighs, mentally smacking himself out of all this sappy shit, and steps over the scissors and a roll of wrapping paper with glitter all over it to squat down next to Miyuki’s sleeping form.

Kuramochi rubs his hand up the line of Miyuki’s waist to his chest, slides his hand up the soft skin of his neck, up along the side of his jaw, brushes the mess of hair out of his face, and rips the chunk of packing tape that’s on his forehead off quickly.

“Fuck, OW!” Miyuki yelps, his hand coming up to smack against his forehead as Kuramochi looms over him a laugh building in his chest.

Miyuki glares up at him, his fingers rubbing at the spot on his forehead where the tape used to be and Kuramochi can’t help but laugh, loudly, because as Miyuki sits up, there’s wrapping paper pieces in his hair and glitter all over his shirt and pants.

“God, shut up,” Miyuki says, his voice thick with sleep, his cheek red from sleeping on it. Miyuki rubs his sweatshirt sleeve across his face, probably having felt the drool, and looks up at Kuramochi, glitter now swiped across his mouth, his eyes still heavy from sleep.

”When did you get ho-what time is? Why am I?” Miyuki questions, running a hand through his mop of hair, his eyebrows coming together in confusion, a small frown on his lips.

Kuramochi’s laughter dies in his throat, but his smiles still pulling at his lips at the sight of Miyuki. Kuramochi likes when Miyuki’s sleepy. Likes when his thoughts are jumbled and his normal facade of arrogance is gone, he’s vulnerable, and sweet, and fuck it, he’s cute like this.

Kuramochi’s so screwed. He’s so fuckign screwed. He has been since his third year in highschool when Miyuki kissed him against the wall of the batting cages.

Kuramochi leans down and presses his lips to Miyuki’s. He hears the little noise in the back of Miyuki’s throat, surprise, he thinks, as Miyuki finally responds to him and kisses him back. He feels Miyuki’s hands come up to grasp the side of his face, while the other slides into the back of his hair. He feels Miyuki’s tongue slide across his lips and Kuramochi pulls back slightly, only pressing his forehead to Miyuki’s as he stares at him, both his cheeks red now, his eyes still heavy, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips that are a bit swollen.

“How about you clean up this fucking mess,” Kuramochi says, sliding his hand up Miyuki’s back, “and then I’ll try to salvage the hot chocolate you were attempting to burn down the house with.”

Miyuki pulls back, eyes going wide as his hands grip tighter in Kuramochi’s hair, “Goddamnit!” He hisses, bending his neck to lay his head on Kuramochi’s shoulder. “That was supposed to be a present for you.” He says, his voice muffled by Kuramochi’s shirt.

“Well you can make me some more,” Kuramochi says, pushing Miyuki away from him and standing up, “but first you’re cleaning up this fucking living room you slob.”

———-

Of course he’d have a sakura filled pool, Haru thought as he flicked his eyes sideways to Rin who was next to Makoto, staring at him, his grin sliding across his face, his teeth sharp, his eyes bright, his excitement so blatantly obvious. He was glowing. He was beautiful.

But so was the pool.

So Haru ran. He couldn’t resist it anymore than someone could resist taking a breath. The water just called to him. He had to be in that water. And this was Rin’s dream, to swim in a pool of Sakura blossoms and here they were.

Doing just that.

But then again, Haru thought as he tumbled out of his school uniform and leapt into the water, Rin had always managed to make the impossible things possible. And Haru knew without any doubt in his mind that he’d continue to do it. And Haru would be there to watch.

The water was perfect, it was always perfect to Haru, it didn’t matter the temperature, and it greeted him as he submerged, wrapping around his body bolstering his energy somehow, not fighting him, not protesting his presence; calm.

And then he felt someone grab his foot underneath the water and pull him down, his eyes widening slightly before he felt the water cover his face and submerge him in silence.

He knew before he opened his eyes in the water, the slight sting of the chlorine painful but familiar, and saw that blur of red hair looming before him, who had done it.

He felt Rin’s fingers brush against his cheek, trailing across his lips. Haru grabbed his hand and kicked once to surface, unable to contain the small smile that pulled at his lips as Rin surfaced, hair slicked to his forehead, laughing.

Haru could listen to that laugh forever.

He could stay here forever in this pool.

With his friends.

With these stupid cherry blossoms.

With Rin.

He would always stay with Rin.

So he smiled as he tugged Rin’s hand along with him underwater, heading towards his teammates a few lap lanes over.

Rin squeezed his hand and swam next to him.

————

It was dark before Makoto and the others left to head back to Iwatobi, Haru having told them that he was staying with Rin tonight.

It was his last night in the dorms.

His last night at Samezuka.

His last night in Japan.

And of course, being the overly-sentimental person Rin was, he’d asked Haru to stay to keep him company one last night.

And of course Haru hadn’t hesitated in saying yes.

He was leaving tomorrow, anyway.

Haru closed his eyes as he lay floating in the pool that was still filled with all those Sakura blossoms, the best farewell they all could have asked for, and just listened to the silence. He didn’t want to think about Rin leaving, but he wasn’t going to have a choice because he was going to be facing it head on tomorrow at 4pm.

4pm.

Haru sighed, letting his arms drift up above his head, the petals grazing against his skin like fingers brushing down his arms, bringing chills to his skin, before bringing them back to his side and drifting off in another direction.

“Haru,” Rin’s voice called, muffled by the water around his ears, but clear enough to jerk Haru out of his thoughts

Haru righted himself in the pool and looked up to Rin who was standing on the side of the pool with a towel wrapped around his waist, his leg skins still on, visible below his towel line. He stared at Rin, confused. Why wasn’t he getting in? Why did he have his towel-

“C’mon, let’s go back to the room.” Rin said, twirling his goggles in his hand.

“No.” Haru said, feeling his stomach twist in disgust at the thought.

“Haru,” Rin whined, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief, “We’ve been in here all day, c’mon.”

Haru ignored him, and returned to floating on his back and kicked away from the side of the pool. He didn’t want to get out of the pool yet. He didn’t know when the next time he’d be in the same water as Rin was, he wasn’t leaving yet.

Not yet.

“Get in, Rin.” Haru said, making sure he was loud enough for Rin to know he wasn’t disputing this. Haru was being selfish tonight. He wouldn’t get to for some time.

He couldn’t hear Rin’s response if there was one, but he did hear a splash as Rin jumped back in the water.

And Haru knows nothing magical traversed through the liquid in the pool, nothing chemical changes in the water’s composition in that second, but it felt different when Rin was sharing it with him. This is where they belonged together.

He felt Rin swim up next to him, felt the ripples of the water from his movement before he felt Rin’s hands on his arm, and then his side, fingers ghost like and ticklish.

Rin trailed his fingers from Haru’s bicep down his forearm and then down to his hand, outlining every finger, before intertwining his own fingers within Haru’s. And then Rin’s whole side was lined up with Haru’s, he could feel Rin’s leg against his own, his shoulder bumping his own shoulder in the water.  And they floated.

They didn’t talk.

They didn’t adjust their path.

They just were.

One with the water.

Together.

Haru could hear his own breaths in his ears, and faintly Rin’s next to him. And that was all. It was all he wanted. Haru could have stayed here forever. But he also had a boyfriend who’s patience level rivaled that of a puppies.

“Haru, what are you thinking about?” He heard Rin say next to him. Haru flicked his eyes over to Rin’s face, met Rin’s glance.

“The water.”

He saw Rin shut his eyes and watched that sharp smile grew across his lips.

“And the future. And you. And how much I don’t want you to leave. And how this is going to be the last time we’re in the same water together for months. And how I love you.”

Haru shifted, let his feet sink to the bottom of the pool and stood, keeping his hand clasped with Rin’s as he looked over his floating form, let his eye rove down the firm planes of his chest that the water tried to swallow, inching up his skin and receding. Rin’s eyes snapped open and he stared at Haru, his eyes full of water that Haru was almost certain wasn’t from the pool.

Haru moved forward, placing his other hand on Rin’s abdomen, which was warm and familiar and perfect, and pressed his lips against Rin’s. The mixture of chlorine and his breath familiar and just a part of Rin he’d grown to love.

He kissed him slow, he didn’t want to rush anything tonight, and Rin’s mouth parted almost immediately, Haru’s name on his lips as he stood in the water before Haru, never breaking their kiss.

Haru pulled back from him, moving his hands to Rin’s waist below the water, and stared at him, his eyes flicking across all of his features taking him in. The sharp line of his nose, the hair that lay matted against his head, the tears that trailed down his cheeks as he blinked..

He settled on his eyes last.

Those dark red iris’ Haru’d dreamt about since he was young. Always bright and shining and looking forward towards the future.

“Haru, I don’t want to leave you behind,” Rin said, sniffing as he brought his hand up to Haru’s face, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his cheekbone.

“You’re not leaving me behind,” Haru said, pulling Rin closer, their bodies completely aligned, skin against skin, their breathing in sync, he pressed his lips against the skin of Rin’s cheek, kissing the tears he shed so frequently, “You’re taking a different road to the same place. This is just a fork.”

“Haru.” Rin said, his voice broken as he wrapped his arms around Haru’s back, pressing his face into Haru’s neck.

Haru closed his eyes, taking in the scent of Rin, so close to him he could almost feel his heartbeat against his own, mixed with the scent of the pool, and