Haru wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. Dark circles lingered under his warm brown eyes, but they weren't as deep these days. Life felt... steadier. Ichigo's laughter echoed from the living room, mixed with Chris's playful voice. It was a lazy afternoon—work wrapped early, no big plans. Just the three of them, like a little family piecing itself together.
He rolled up his sleeves on the button-up shirt, heading out. Ichigo was on the floor, building a tower with blocks, while Chris sat cross-legged beside him, adding wonky pieces. Chris's light brown hair fell charmingly messy over his forehead, hazel eyes sparkling as he teased Ichigo. "Whoa, buddy, that's taller than me! Careful, or it'll topple like a Jenga gone wrong."
Ichigo giggled, pushing another block on. "No fall! Strong like Papa!"
Haru leaned in the doorway, soft smile tugging at his lips. Chris glanced up, that subtle blush creeping in when their eyes met. "Etto, Haru-san. Join the architect club?"
Haru sat down, ruffling Ichigo's wavy black hair. "Sure can. But if it crashes, it's on you two."
They built for a bit, Ichigo's mischief shining through as he accidentally knocked it over, laughing wildly. Chris joined in, his energetic vibe lighting up the room. But Haru noticed the way Chris's smile faltered sometimes, like a cloud passing over the sun. That phone buzz from last week—the debt reminders—still nagged at him.
After the tower rebuild, it was snack time. Apples and cheese sticks, Ichigo's fave. The kid munched happily, then yawned big. Nap routine kicked in—Chris carried him to bed, reading a quick story about adventurous bears. Ichigo's bright eyes drooped, tiny hand holding Chris's finger until he was out.
Back in the living room, Haru pulled Chris onto the couch. "You've been quiet today. Something up?"
Chris leaned into him, slim frame relaxing against Haru's taller build. "Nah, just... memories hitting hard. Mom's birthday's coming up. Makes me think about the old days."
Haru wrapped an arm around him, protective instinct flaring. "Wanna share? I'm here."
Chris sighed, staring at the ceiling. "It's messy, Haru-san. You know the basics—Mom's cancer, the debt. But there's more crap layered on."
Haru nodded, giving him space to talk.
Chris's voice dropped, hazel eyes distant. "I was 15 when she got diagnosed. Stage three breast cancer—aggressive as hell. Dad? He bounced early, said it was too much. Left us high and dry. Mom was a teacher, but treatments meant no work. Chemo wrecked her—hair gone, sick all the time, pain that kept her up nights. I'd skip school to help, make soup she could barely eat, hold her hand during the bad spells."
Haru's chest ached. He squeezed Chris's shoulder. "Sounds brutal. You were just a kid."
"Yeah. We scraped by on savings at first, but hospital bills piled like snow in winter. Insurance covered half, maybe. Meds, scans, radiation—thousands each round. I started odd jobs: mowing lawns, walking dogs, whatever. But it wasn't enough. Mom cried one night, said we might lose the house. That's when I... made the dumb move."
Haru listened, his reserved posture softening.
"Friend from school knew these guys—local lenders, not the suit-and-tie bank types. More like back-alley deals. They offered cash quick, no questions. I borrowed 20 grand for her last treatments. Mom beat it—remission, thank God. She's with my aunt now, doing okay. But the interest? It's a monster. Turned 20 into 50, easy. They call it 'protection fee' or some BS. Texts come every month: 'Time to pay up, kid.' Subtle threats, like knowing where I live."
Haru tensed. "Have they ever... done anything?"
Chris shook his head. "Not yet. Just words. But it scares me. What if they show up? Hurt Mom? Or... you and Ichigo?"
Haru's dark eyes flashed protective. "Won't happen. We'll pay it off smart—maybe a loan from my bank, or sell some stuff. You're not alone anymore."
Chris's eyes misted, vulnerability raw. "You're too good, Haru-san. I don't deserve—"
Haru cut him off with a kiss—gentle at first, reassuring. Chris melted into it, hands clutching Haru's shirt. The air shifted, charged with more than comfort. Haru deepened it, tongue slipping in slow, tasting the sweetness mixed with salt from unshed tears.
They shifted on the couch, Chris straddling Haru's lap, bodies aligning flush. Hands roamed urgent now—Chris's fingers unbuttoning Haru's shirt, palms sliding over the medium build, tracing tired but athletic lines. Haru groaned softly, hands dipping under Chris's tee, feeling the slim warmth, thumbs brushing ribs and making Chris shiver.
Clothes peeled away slow—shirts tossed, jeans unzipped with shaky fingers. Skin met skin, hot and electric, breaths quickening. Chris rocked down, friction building through thin fabric, drawing gasps. Haru's mouth trailed Chris's neck—kissing, nipping gently, leaving faint marks that bloomed pink. Chris arched, head back, hazel eyes half-closed in bliss.
They moved together, rhythm heating—hips grinding, hands exploring every curve, dip, sensitive spot. Haru's palms gripped Chris's thighs, guiding the motion; Chris's nails raked lightly down Haru's back, sparking shivers. Whispers filled the space: "Feels so right," Chris breathed; "Got you," Haru murmured husky.
Undergarments slipped away, bare now—sweat-slick, hearts pounding. The touch turned intimate, strokes slow and firm, bodies pressing in a tangle of limbs and want. Pleasure built wave-like, intense but tender, every slide and caress pulling them deeper.
Climax crested soft and shared—bodies tensing, releasing in shudders, names gasped like prayers. They collapsed tangled, breaths evening, foreheads touching.
Chris smiled weakly, blushing. "You chase the dark away."
Haru kissed his temple. "We chase it together."
They cleaned up, dressed lazy, stealing touches. Ichigo woke soon, demanding playtime. The evening flowed normal—dinner laughs, bath splashes, bedtime hugs. But Chris's backstory lingered, a shadow Haru vowed to banish.
As Chris left, Haru hugged him tight. "Call if anything feels off."
Chris nodded, lingering kiss. "Love you, Haru-san."
Haru's heart flipped. "Love you too."
Door closed, Haru leaned against it. The past hurt, but their future? Worth fighting for.