In a sea of nosy bystanders, Makoto stands, a genuinely surprised look on his face, looking a bit haggard but otherwise whole and alive.
Haruka doesn’t feel himself move. People are nothing, solid weight is nothing, and he stumbles through the crowd with a strength that is almost manic, wanting nothing but to close the distance between him and Makoto.
Makoto’s look of surprise breaks out into a worried smile. “Haru I can ex--” he starts, but is cut off when Haruka crashes into him, hard enough to almost knock them both off-balance, fists clenching around Makoto’s sleeves.
“Don’t,” Haruka hisses, as he pounds a fist against Makoto’s chest with each word. “Ever. Do That. Again.”
He doesn’t realize how badly he’s shaking until Makoto reaches up to hug him tightly, and he can feel the vibrations of his own body resonating off Makoto’s.
Makoto’s voice is full of regret. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“You weren’t even answering your phone.”
“The place was a deadspot Haru; and you know how much of a battery drainer searching for a signal is—“
“—I don’t care.” Haruka’s being unreasonable. He doesn’t know what he’s asking Makoto not to do, all he cares about is that is never happens again. He’s exhausted, and for a few agonizing minutes, he honestly thought Makoto has left him forever—he has every right to be unreasonable. “Don’t do it again.”
Makoto looks at him, understanding. “I won’t,” he promises softly, and hugs Haruka tighter.
The people around them slowly drift away, as the fire gets contained, the air smelling like acrid smoke and artificial petrichor. Haruka slumps forward, letting Makoto take all his weight. He has never felt this exhausted before, running on empty, and trying not to hyperventilate has taken a toll on him. Makoto notices this and chuckles, before untangling himself from Haruka and crouching down, an invitation to hop on for a piggy back ride.
For the first time in pretty much ever, Haruka doesn’t huff or make any theatrics about not being a big baby, and just slumps forward, wrapping his arms around Makoto’s neck, and allowing his legs to be buoyed up by Makoto’s strong arms.
“Where did you park the car?” Makoto asks, as he walks.
Haru lifts his hand and vaguely points out the direction of the car. He doesn’t feel bad about wishing Makoto would take longer to walk-- he has missed being coddled like this, missed Makoto holding him up almost effortlessly, missed the feeling of Makoto’s strong solid back against his chest, his heart beating just a few inches away from Haruka's own.
Haruka presses his nose on the nape of Makoto’s neck and breathes deeply. It smells faintly of aftershave, clean sweat and some smoke, which annoys Haruka a little bit, his mind reeling back to that moment of terror, but Makoto is here, and he’s real, and that’s all that matters.
From Ad_Astra Part 3
Haruka doesn’t feel himself move. People are nothing, solid weight is nothing, and he stumbles through the crowd with a strength that is almost manic, wanting nothing but to close the distance between him and Makoto.
Makoto’s look of surprise breaks out into a worried smile. “Haru I can ex--” he starts, but is cut off when Haruka crashes into him, hard enough to almost knock them both off-balance, fists clenching around Makoto’s sleeves.
“Don’t,” Haruka hisses, as he pounds a fist against Makoto’s chest with each word. “Ever. Do That. Again.”
He doesn’t realize how badly he’s shaking until Makoto reaches up to hug him tightly, and he can feel the vibrations of his own body resonating off Makoto’s.
Makoto’s voice is full of regret. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“You weren’t even answering your phone.”
“The place was a deadspot Haru; and you know how much of a battery drainer searching for a signal is—“
“—I don’t care.” Haruka’s being unreasonable. He doesn’t know what he’s asking Makoto not to do, all he cares about is that is never happens again. He’s exhausted, and for a few agonizing minutes, he honestly thought Makoto has left him forever—he has every right to be unreasonable. “Don’t do it again.”
Makoto looks at him, understanding. “I won’t,” he promises softly, and hugs Haruka tighter.
The people around them slowly drift away, as the fire gets contained, the air smelling like acrid smoke and artificial petrichor. Haruka slumps forward, letting Makoto take all his weight. He has never felt this exhausted before, running on empty, and trying not to hyperventilate has taken a toll on him. Makoto notices this and chuckles, before untangling himself from Haruka and crouching down, an invitation to hop on for a piggy back ride.
For the first time in pretty much ever, Haruka doesn’t huff or make any theatrics about not being a big baby, and just slumps forward, wrapping his arms around Makoto’s neck, and allowing his legs to be buoyed up by Makoto’s strong arms.
“Where did you park the car?” Makoto asks, as he walks.
Haru lifts his hand and vaguely points out the direction of the car. He doesn’t feel bad about wishing Makoto would take longer to walk-- he has missed being coddled like this, missed Makoto holding him up almost effortlessly, missed the feeling of Makoto’s strong solid back against his chest, his heart beating just a few inches away from Haruka's own.
Haruka presses his nose on the nape of Makoto’s neck and breathes deeply. It smells faintly of aftershave, clean sweat and some smoke, which annoys Haruka a little bit, his mind reeling back to that moment of terror, but Makoto is here, and he’s real, and that’s all that matters.
~fin~