Haru collapsed onto the couch after putting Ichigo to bed, the apartment finally quiet except for the low hum of the fridge. It was past 9 PM, and his whole body felt like it had run a marathon—work meetings, preschool pickup, dinner battles, and the endless energy of a four-year-old. But tonight, his mind wasn't on the exhaustion. It was on Chris.
That kiss in the kitchen this morning? Yeah, it was still burning in his brain. The way Chris's lips felt—soft but insistent, the little sounds he made, the heat of his body pressed close. Haru rubbed his face, trying to shake it off. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. He was the responsible dad, the guy with boundaries. But Chris… damn, he was sneaking past every wall Haru had built.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table. Haru grabbed it quick, heart skipping when he saw the name.
Chris: You up? Ichigo down for the count?
Haru smiled despite himself, thumbs flying.
Haru: Yeah, finally. Kid fought bedtime like a champ tonight. You home?
Chris: Just got in. Long day—classes dragged, then helped a friend move some stuff. Miss the little monster already tho.
Haru: He was asking about you during bath time. Wanted to know if "Chris makes bubbles tomorrow."
Chris: Tell him yes, extra bubbles. And… miss you too, Haru-san.
Haru stared at the screen, heat creeping up his neck. Miss you too. Simple words, but they hit hard.
Haru: Same. Today was… something.
Chris: Something good, I hope?
Haru: Real good.
They texted back and forth for an hour—flirty but light, talking about Ichigo's antics, Haru's annoying boss, Chris's boring lecture. It felt easy, natural. Like they'd been doing this forever.
The next morning kicked off the usual whirlwind. Ichigo woke Haru with a poke to the cheek. "Papa! Sun's up! Play time!"
Haru groaned playfully, pulling the covers over his head. "Five more minutes, buddy."
"Nooo! Chris coming soon!" Ichigo yanked the blanket down, climbing on top like a monkey.
Haru laughed, scooping him up. "Alright, alright. Papa Defeated. Victory to the dinosaur king."
Breakfast prep was solo this time—Haru managed scrambled eggs and toast without major disasters. Ichigo chattered about preschool friends while smearing jam everywhere. Haru wiped his face for the third time, that protective warmth filling his chest. This kid was his everything.
Chris arrived at 7:30, same as always, but today he looked a little off. His smile was still bright, hazel eyes lively, but there were faint shadows under them, like he hadn't slept great. His light brown hair was messier than usual, and his posture wasn't quite as bouncy.
"Ohayooo, team!" Chris said, forcing extra cheer as he hugged Ichigo. The kid didn't notice anything, too busy dragging Chris to see his new drawing.
Haru did notice. "Rough night?" he asked quietly while Ichigo colored at the table.
Chris shrugged, tying on his apron. "Nah, just… adult stuff. Bills and whatever. I'm all good."
Haru let it drop, but worry nagged at him. They made oatmeal together—Ichigo insisting on "smiley faces" with fruit. Chris played along, arranging blueberries into goofy grins, but his laughs came a beat late.
After breakfast, it was park time. Ichigo's daily routine demanded fresh air, no matter the weather. They bundled up—December chill biting even in the mild mornings—and headed to the nearby playground. Ichigo bolted for the slides, yelling for Chris to chase him.
Haru sat on a bench, watching them. Chris pushed Ichigo on the swing, higher and higher, the kid's squeals echoing. Chris's energy was back in full force with Ichigo—playful, caring, lifting him down safely every time. But when Ichigo ran off to the sandbox, Chris's smile faded a bit. He pulled out his phone, frowning at the screen before shoving it back in his pocket.
Haru scooted over when Chris sat beside him. Their thighs brushed—on purpose this time. "Wanna talk about it?"
Chris hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's dumb. Just… money's tight this month. Mom's old hospital bills are still hanging around, and tuition hit harder than I thought. I'll figure it out."
Haru's chest tightened. He knew about Chris's mom—cancer survivor, treatments years ago that left scars deeper than physical. Chris never complained, always cheerful. But now, seeing the worry in those hazel eyes, Haru wanted to fix it.
"Hey," Haru said softly, bumping shoulders. "You're not alone in this, okay? If you need anything, I am here for you…"
Chris's expression softened, a real smile breaking through. "Origatou, Haru-san. Means a lot." He leaned in quick, brushing a light kiss to Haru's cheek when Ichigo wasn't looking. Haru's face heated up.
The rest of park time flew—slides, tag, Ichigo holding both their hands as they swung him between them. "We're a family!" Ichigo declared randomly, making Haru's heart stutter and Chris blush hard.
Back home, lunch was simple sandwiches. Nap time came easier today—Ichigo worn out from running wild. Chris read two stories, voice gentle, until the kid was out cold.
They ended up on the couch, closer than before. Chris rested his head on Haru's shoulder, sighing. "Today was good. Needed this."
Haru wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in. "Yeah. Me too."
The quiet stretched, comfortable but charged. Chris tilted his face up, eyes searching Haru's. Haru didn't hesitate this time—he leaned down, capturing Chris's lips in a slow, deep kiss. Chris melted into it, hand sliding up Haru's chest, fingers curling into his shirt.
They shifted, bodies pressing closer on the couch. Haru's hands roamed—down Chris's back, settling on his hips, pulling him half into his lap. Chris straddled him carefully, knees on either side, the kiss turning hotter, more urgent. Soft gasps filled the room as lips parted, tongues brushing in a teasing dance. Chris's fingers threaded through Haru's black hair, tugging lightly; Haru groaned quietly, hands slipping under Chris's shirt to trace warm skin along his spine.
Shirts rode up, skin meeting skin—smooth, heated. Haru's mouth trailed to Chris's neck, kissing along the jaw, nipping gently at the sensitive spot below his ear. Chris shivered, arching closer, a breathy whisper of Haru's name escaping. Their hips rocked together instinctively, friction building sweet and slow through fabric. Hands explored—over chests, along waists, mapping every curve and line with growing need.
Time blurred in the quiet living room, sunlight filtering through curtains. They moved together in a rhythm that felt natural, inevitable—kisses deepening, touches lingering, breaths mingling hot and fast. Chris's cheeks flushed deep pink, hazel eyes half-lidded with want; Haru's dark brown ones burned with the same fire, his usual serious expression softened into pure affection.
They slowed eventually, pulling back just enough to breathe, foreheads pressed together. Chris's smile was shy but glowing. "You make everything feel… better."
Haru brushed a thumb over Chris's swollen lips. "Same here."
A small voice from the hallway broke the spell—"Papa? Chris?" Ichigo toddled out, rubbing sleepy eyes.
Chris slid off Haru's lap quick, both of them straightening clothes with flustered laughs. "Nap over already, little man?" Chris scooped Ichigo up, planting a kiss on his forehead.
The rest of the afternoon was kid-focused—snacks, cartoons, building block towers. But the glances between Haru and Chris carried new heat, promises of more stolen moments.
When Chris left for his evening shift at a part-time café job he'd mentioned offhand, Haru caught his hand at the door. "Text me when you're home safe?"
Chris nodded, squeezing back. "Always."
Later that night, after Ichigo was down again, Haru's phone lit up.
Chris: Home. Rough shift—tips sucked. But thinking about today keeps me going.
Haru: We'll figure the money stuff out. Together.
Chris: You're too good to me, Haru-san.
Haru smiled in the dark. Yeah, things were getting complicated. But for the first time in forever, complicated felt worth it.