#brownnod

haru's skin is a splash of bright colour against the faded brown of the steering wheel. through the thin white material of his shirt sousuke can see the sway of tails, the decorative fish swimming their way up haru's back. they're speeding down along coast in high noon, and haru's back is damp down the middle.

sousuke's skin feels sticky, and he shifts so that the sunlight falls away from his forearm. he fiddles with the dial until it picks up a soft twang of a guitar, and he leaves it alone. haru is still looking at the road, eyes unwavering in the light.

+

the nights are cool. the rooms themselves are nondescript and anonymous, which suits them just fine. haru crawls into sousuke's arms, settling in them and curling his legs up.

'your haircut looks stupid,' haru tells him, running his fingers through sousuke's fringe. 'you should have let me do it.' the memory comes back to sousuke in a flash-- it was haphazardly done in the morning two days ago, after a huge argument the night before. sousuke had stood before the mirror in the bathroom, the cold metal of the scissors pushing up against his skin.

'next time,' sousuke says, and lowers his head obligingly when haru pulls him into a kiss.

there will be a next time, and another time after that, as long as they don't run out of road.

--

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's all right.