Disclaimer: Free! Itowabi Swim Club does not belong to me. It would have a very different rating if it did.

A/N: I give you…more HaruMakoto Feels. Because they won't stop. And I needed to get this out there.

Warnings: Yaoi, boylove, sex, a little language because there's just too much feeling happening and I had to set them free. /sorrynotsorry

••∞• Drawing the Comparison •∞••

Haru, Makoto thinks, is beautiful in the water.

Makoto also thinks that Haru is beautiful when they have sex.

So why it hasn't ever struck him before this fateful day to put the two together, he can't fathom.

When it finally hits him, it hits him like a truck, one hot summer day at the pool where the whole team is gathered for practice.

Makoto is sitting at the edge of the pool, taking a breather and his respective turn to time the others - laughing as Nagisa splashes him playfully when he swims by to take his place at the diving board, making some clever joke in passing that, if he were ever asked, Makoto couldn't even come close to guessing.

Because that was the moment Haru chose to come gliding gracefully through the water and up to him, coming to a stop between Makoto's legs and draping his arms unabashedly over Makoto's thighs (something he'd never done before) as he rested his cool cheek on Makoto's knee (also something he'd never done before), his breath tickling over Makoto's slick skin and giving him goosebumps.

The chills clash weirdly with the way Makoto's cheeks burn as he splutters out a plaintive "H-Haru-chan, we're in p-public!"

"So?" Haru mumbles, cracking one deep blue eye open to stare up blankly at Makoto and, if he didn't know better, shifted his cheek in what felt suspiciously like a nuzzle.

If Makoto's face had been pink before, surely it had to be scarlet by now.

"Ooh~ look, Rei-chan – looklooklook, it's the super-rare, loveydovey Haru-chan!" Nagisa hollers in delight, clapping gleefully as he bounces dangerously up and down on the diving board he's stepped onto, ignoring Rei's alarmed cries to "g-get down from there before you hurt yourself, Nagisa!"

This time, Haru is the one to let out a (softer) plaintive sound before reluctantly falling back into the water from Makoto's lap, ducking his head back just far enough for the water to cover his ears.

Makoto watches, entranced, as Haru's brow eases from the slight furrow it had drawn into at Nagisa's squeals – that had since trailed into whining pleas for Haru to do something cute again; he decidedly chose not to hear the way Kou's whines joined his as she wailed about missing the moment entirely.

No, because he was too absorbed in watching Haru's pretty blue eyes sliding blissfully closed as he just reveled in floating on his back in the water, little droplets clinging to his skin in glistening beads, and a heavenly look on his face.

Makoto felt his heart give a little flutter, and he shook his head a little despite himself, smiling, because how many times had he seen Haru just like this before?-yet here he was with butterflies in his stomach.

It was a pleasantly familiar sight, and yet how could Makoto ever tire of it, of Haru?

Haru; on his back, his dark hair plastered in a frame around his face, his whole body glistening and spread out gorgeously before Makoto—

And.

Just Like That.

The connection was irrevocably made, his smile freezing on his face as it dawned on him just how familiar this scene was.

Because, no – the last time Makoto had seen this wasn't last Friday's practice, or even two nights before, when he and Haru snuck into the pool to take a lazy swim.

No. It'd been last night, when he'd given Haru the ride of his life.

And he meant that quite literally.

"Makoto-sempai!"

Makoto nearly squeaked as he practically jumped out of his skin, green eyes widening as Rei materialized at his side, pushing the bridge of his glasses up importantly as he held out a bottle of...

"Sunscreen?" Makoto blinked up at the nodding freshman.

"Yessir! You're getting extremely red, Makoto-sempai, please apply a second coat before it gets any worse!"

Haru deigns the muffled commotion above him worthy of glancing up questioningly at Makoto through his lashes, and he tilts his head to the side in silent question.

The same way he does when he wants to go faster, deeper, harder-

And all Makoto can think is.

(Somewhat ironically…)

'Fuck.'

•∞•

Unfortunately, now that he's drawn the comparison, Makoto can't unsee it, or even get the notion out of his head. Truthfully, he's mostly bewildered that it took this long to make the connection.

But now, a certain idea keeps popping into his head, and refuses to stop making a mess of his thoughts each time it interrupts whatever train of thought he desperately tries to cling onto.

What would it be like, having Haru in the water? How would it be? Would Haru go pliant and slow, the way he does when he soaks in his long baths? Or would he be confident and fast, the way he does his laps in the pool? How would Haru react, faced with his self-proclaimed two favorite things at the same time?

Makoto can't help but shiver and bite his lip, doing everything in his power to stop thinking about it, because it's dinnertime, and Haru must be hungry (and he knows he should be, too, but right now the only thing he has any appetite for is Haruka) and he needs to concentrate on getting dinner ready as Haru, predictably, makes a beeline straight for the stairs up to the bath – already stripping on his way there.

Makoto stumbles over his own feet, because now his head is racing with broken thoughts, mostly consisting of basic words and concepts strung together like "Haru. Bath. Naked. Water. Want."

"Stop it," Makoto breathes to himself, pressing a trembling hand against the wall to steady himself, freezing when he unmistakably feels eyes trained on him.

Ever so slowly, he lifts his gaze from his feet and, sure enough, Haru's staring at him questioningly from the fifth step up, paused with his arms tangled up in his shirt over his head and his pants undone and slipping painfully slowly down his slim hips.

"Stop what?" Haru replies as he lets his shirt fall unceremoniously to the floor, arching an eyebrow at him, and Makoto's face bursts into a blush for the umpteenth time that day because shit, did his voice really carry so loudly?

"Nothing, Haru, it's nothing," Makoto winces as his laugh comes out painfully strained, and the other eyebrow joins its twin in a disbelieving arch. "I was talking to myself…really, I was!" Makoto protests, waving his hands for emphasis as Haru's brows go flat.

"Thinking is when you talk to yourself. You were talking. Out loud," Haru points out helpfully as he kicks one foot out of his pants leg. It's all Makoto can do not to tear out his hair in mixed frustration.

"Yes, Haru-chan, I know that," Makoto says as sweetly as he can, but even he can feel how pained his smile must look, "But I accidentally said it out loud. It's nothing to worry about, really. Go take your bath," Makoto said, his smile softening to an earnest one. "Dinner'll be ready by the time you're out."

Haru pauses, a considering expression passing over his face as he tilts his head. The silence is thick as Makoto and Haru stares back unflinchingly at one another, until Haru narrows his eyes as he finally breaks the pregnant pause.

"Come take a bath with me," Haru says bluntly, and the faintest hint of curiosity flickers over his face when the demand pulls a full-bodied jerk out of Makoto.

"W-what? H-har-Haru-chan, you can't be serious," Makoto finally manages to choke out after a few seconds where it feels like his brain goes offline. "We haven't been able to fit in your tub since we were children," he presses on, incredulously, a smile tugging at his lip despite himself.

Surely Haru must be joking, there's no way he could possibly want to squeeze in together.

Haru gives a one-shouldered shrug. "S'fine. We can squeeze in together," he says confidently, "I can sit between your legs."

Makoto opens his mouth to speak but then it just sort of hangs open.

Somehow, because this is the way Makoto's life works, his gaping serves as acquiescence enough for Haru, who nods once, decisively before calmly stepping out of the other pants leg where it's pooled at him feet as he continues up the stairs.

The last thing that Makoto's brain helpfully chooses to process, before he finds himself standing, dumfounded, in the bathroom doorframe, is that, 'oh. Yeah, those are his jammers' as the swim trunks come fluttering innocently down the steps once Haru is out of sight.

Haru, for his part, merely looks up with a mild expression where he's half sitting half leaning on the side of the tub, waiting impatiently as the bath fills with steaming water.

"Uh. Um. Haru," Makoto tries, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he studiously keeps his eyes trained anywhere but his boyfriend. "I should really be getting dinner ready—I-I can take a quick rinse later, before bed—y-you must be hungry," he smiles even as he swallows thickly.

"Not really."

Makoto gives Haru a Look – cheeks flushed as he steadfastly looks into Haru's face (and nowhere else).

Haru stares back defiantly. "Baths are nicer."

"I'll make mackerel," Makoto smiles just this side of indulgently when Haru's eyes narrow pensively, relief washing over him now that he's certain he can make his speedy getaway—

"Make it later," Haru mumbles, eyes dropping from Makoto's face to gaze with much more interest at the nearly filled tub.

'Well shit,' Makoto thinks helplessly, already tugging off his shirt in slow resignation as Haru leans in to turn off the faucet before gracefully stepping into the tub, settling down comfortably before looking back up at Makoto expectantly, who blushes.

He was gonna be so screwed.

Which was kind of ironic when he really thought about it, because in one sense, he'd like nothing more when it all came down to it, but really—what would Haru think?

'Why do you have to be so perverted!' Makoto wailed inwardly, miserably, as he took his sweet time undoing his pants, hesitating when he went to drop his boxers.

Haru shifted over until he was resting his chin on the side and staring pointedly at Makoto, at last seeming to garner that there was something giving Makoto pause.

"You don't want to take a bath with me. Why?" Haru demands.

'Oh,' Makoto can't help but inwardly sigh, 'if only it were that simple.'

"That's not it at all, Haru," Makoto reassures him earnestly, his expression loudly pleading for Haru to know he's being honest. "I…I do…w-want to, I don't—I just, I mean—I-"

Finally, something dawns in Haru's eyes, and Makoto's honestly not sure what finally tipped his best friend off; whether it was Makoto's hesitation, the blush growing deeper and deeper on his face, or the incoherent splutters as he starts, stops, and tries to start again.

"You want me," Haru says, and Makoto doesn't know if the almost breathy quality of Haru's voice is something he's making up to make himself feel a fraction better or not, "you're turned on. Right now?" Haru's voice ends in a curious lilt.

Makoto's struggling mouth snaps shut with an audible, somewhat painful sounding clack but all he can do is look at Haru desperately, giving a short, little nod and suddenly finding the tiled floor absolutely riveting.

So Makoto can't possibly see the way Haru's eyes flicker with interest as he tilts his head, considering.

"Makoto." The brunet looks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, staring at Haru with wide, green eyes because Haru's voice drops into the one that he only uses when they're alone, typically naked, and up until now, in one of their bedrooms.

The teen simply cocks his head, raising one arm to crook a finger at Makoto, gesturing silently for him to come over.

Now.

Makoto's traitorous feet shuffle him over before he even realizes that, somewhere in the five feet between the door and bath, he'd stripped down completely.

Makoto blushes fiercely and worries his lower lip—because Haru's blue, blue eyes are roving appreciatively over his body from where he's sitting, and he swears he can feel them leaving heated trails in their wake, and the erection he's been fighting all day is aching where it rests flush against his belly.

Haru doesn't seem to mind, if the way his tongue peeks out to lick his lips is any indication, but his face remains blank. "Get in," Haru says, though his voice is softer than usual, and the demand is oddly gentle.

All Makoto can do is give a hesitant, helpless nod, because he still doesn't trust himself to speak without his voice cracking embarrassingly. Still avoiding Haru's oddly piercing gaze, Makoto steps into the tub, one hand propped on the porcelain edge for purchase as he carefully maneuvers into the bath.

Makoto was right – it's going to take a serious stretch to them to fit in together by even the loosest sense of the word.

But manage they do, albeit with limbs akimbo and their elbows and knees knocking, and all it takes is a few patient minutes of not-quite-awkward, silent minutes of shuffling—until at last, Haru is leaning back against Makoto's chest, with Makoto's larger arms shyly wrapped around his slim waist, holding him fast.

An almost comfortable silence falls over them as they settle into their positions.

A silence that's interrupted by a soft snort.

Makoto cranes his head down as far as he can to stare at Haru incredulously, and finds Haru's head tipped as far back as he can manage to stare back upside down at him, blue eyes unblinking and the corners of his lips quivering.

Then, Haru snorts again, lips splitting into a smile, making a wide grin break across Makoto's face until the two of them are laughing hard and loud, the sound echoing and reverberating around the tiled walls.

"This is ridiculous," Haru admits, staring admiringly at Makoto's legs where they're splayed over the sides, resting out of the water to make room for Haru's body.

Makoto can't seem to stop laughing, and any and all tension that had been there before was decidedly gone, melted from the line of his broad shoulders and even the worried lines of his face.

It makes Haru feel warm and relaxed as well.

So he cranes his head around and kisses the corner of Makoto's mouth softly, contentedly.

He's pleasantly surprised to feel Makoto tilt his head to kiss him properly back, no trace of the hesitation or tension that had lingered for so long before, if the way his tongue brushes over Haru's lower lip is any indication.

Haru parts his lips obediently, and then they're kissing slowly, languidly, enjoying taking turns playfully dominating the kiss, until they part to blink in owlish confusion to find that they've seamlessly shifted positions without noticing – with Haru turned to face Makoto and kneeling between his legs, which have crammed into the tub to encompass Haru as best they can.

"I want you, too," Haru mumbles as he shifts restlessly, his eyes dropping from Makoto's. "Now. If that's. Alright with you," he adds on haltingly, his gaze lifting once more to assess Makoto's reaction.

The breathless groan of relief mixed with delight is clearly not what Haru is expecting, because his eyes widen slightly as Makoto drops his forehead to rest on his shoulder, a shudder rippling through his body.

"God, Haru," Makoto moans, hiding his flushed face against the smooth, slender column of Haru's throat, "you don't know what you do to me."

"So, " Haru says slowly, carefully, not quite sure how to handle Makoto's dramatic response. "You're saying it's alright?"

Makoto pulls back to stare at Haru dubiously. Haru stares flatly back.

"Yes, Haru—Haru, yes," Makoto scrambles to reassure him. "I-it's more than alright, I-" and here Makoto has to stop and take along, shuddering breath to steady himself before he can speak, and even then it's fast and breathless and embarrassing. "Ireallywannnadoitlikethis."

Haru blinks calmly as he studies Makoto's embarrassed face.

Before his eyes widen a fraction as he pounds a loose fist into his palm.

"That's what you wanted all along," Haru exclaims softly, narrowing his eyes almost accusingly. "That's why you were acting weird at the pool."

"Ah, was it that obvious?" Makoto sighed, smiling despite himself.

Haru shook his head slightly, to Makoto's surprise. "Not really. Only to me," he said, and Makoto had to bite back the slight smile at the hint of possessiveness in the tone.

Makoto sighs as Haru leans in and kisses him suddenly, parting once, briefly, for air before pressing slow, chaste kiss after kiss to Makoto's mouth. With each kiss, Haru pushes a little closer, closes a little more distance between their bodies, until there's no space left, and they're flush against each other.

Their kisses are so slow and languid, and the warm water so soothing around them, the soft sloshing of the water along the sides as they shift almost lulling, that Makoto gasps with a sudden start when pleasure jolts through him.

The sharp inhale through Haru's nose tells him Haru is just as startled, too – and the temperature in the already steaming room seems to spike to an unbearable level as they realize that Haru has somehow managed to clamber on top of Makoto to straddle him, pressing their hips together.

Dark blue eyes find blown green ones, and Haru holds Makoto's gaze as he slowly rolls his hips into Makoto's, his hands gripping the sides of the tub for purchase as his head lolls forward, a soft sound escaping his lips to be swallowed by a louder, broken moan from Makoto who arches into the touch as best he can with the little space he has.

"O-ohh G-god, Haru," Makoto nearly whimpers, and it's all he can do not to buck up when Haru does it again and again, snapping his hips forward faster each time he does it.

He can't quite help himself, however, when Haru decides to snake a hand beneath the surface and around his cock, however, and Makoto jerks with a shattered gasp—making the water slosh dangerously close to the edge.

"H-Haru-nngh," Makoto whines, covering his face with his hands, as if blocking out the sight of Haru's hand slowly jerking him off can help him get a hold of himself, "H-Haru-chan, w-we're gonna make a m-mess," he says, peeking through his fingers and swallowing hard at the look on Haru's face.

"Mm?" Haru hums, and it almost sounds like a question—but before Makoto can even open his mouth to explain, the ability to use words leaves him as Haru leans in to press his mouth against the hollow of Makoto's throat, his tongue somehow warmer and hotter than the water around them as he tastes the skin there-"Then let's be messy, Makoto."

Makoto chokes on his own air, and he just knows Haru is smirking even if he can't see his face, and he splutters incoherently for a moment before exclaiming (somewhat shrilly) "That isn't what I meant!"

An odd feeling passes over Makoto, and he has the strangest feeling that Haru is rolling his eyes, but he can feel Haru smiling as he trails kisses along his throat and chest. "Idiot," Haru whispers fondly, "I know what you meant," and Makoto takes a moment to feel a very weird mixture of indignant yet proud, because Haru would never loosen up enough to tease, if he were anyone else.

Yet here he is, serious, quiet, gentle, beautiful Haru, cracking a playful smile and joking freely – and maybe it makes Makoto selfish or even a horrible person, that he never wants that to change, but he finds he can't really bring himself to care.

Makaoto feels like his heart is fit to burst as Haru makes an abrupt detour from his clavicle, back to his lips, kissing Makoto hard and deep, stealing the brunet's breath away.

And then promptly makes him melt, as he drags his lips across Makoto's cheek to kiss just beneath his ear before speaking. "But I meant what I said too," he murmurs, grazing his teeth along the curve of Makoto's ear and rubbing his thumb teasingly rubbing over the tip of Makoto's shaft. "I wanna make you a mess, Makoto."

It's all Makoto can do not to cum right then and there. Makoto's eyes flutter madly and a long, low sound escapes his throat and suddenly he's throwing himself at Haru, reversing their positions so that he's perched awkwardly on top of Haru and leaning down to kiss him feverishly.

Makoto gives a shiver when he feels Haru's hands slide from where they instinctively grabbed at his waist to steady him so he didn't slip, down to cup the curve of his ass, and he moans softly into Haru's mouth when the raven-haired boy spreads his cheeks with one hand, and with the other trails a single finger along the cleft.

Haru swallows an even louder moan from Makoto as he presses the pad of his thumb teasingly against his boyfriend's opening, and he sighs hotly against their sealed lips as he pushes oh so softly, his lips curving when he feels Makoto arch eagerly into the touch.

"Haru," Makoto half chokes, half sobs in frustration when Haru doesn't push in any further, but rather circles his hole with a finger, occasionally applying pressure but not nearly enough to give him what he wants. Finally, he pulls back with a huff to glare (pout) at his friend.

Instead, he finds his eyes widening when the other boy laughs softly. "Sorry, Mako," Haru murmurs fondly, a gentle smile on his face as his eyes drink in the brunet above him. "I just wanted to see your cute face."

And how on earth can Makoto possibly get angry over something like that when, when-?

When Haru uses a pet name that he's only ever heard once in a blue moon, even when they were kids?

When Haru looks more relaxed that Makoto has ever seen him when they're so intimate?

When Haru's eyes are slightly crinkled around the edges with enough love to make Makoto's breath catch around his heart, when it leaps into his throat?

"Silly," Makoto finally whispers hoarsely, a tremulous smile on his face as he tenderly brushes a stubborn piece of hair away from Haru's eyes, only to cup his boyfriend's cheek. "You could have just asked."

"But then you would've started blushing and spluttering," Haru points out wisely—"I like seeing you smile best. Even if it's cute when you do," Haru shrugs, his words trailing off into a mumble and a faint blush rising to his cheeks when he realizes how dangerously close to sappy he sounds.

So Haru clears his throat and tilts his head up in a silent invitation and then they're resuming their kisses, and Haru revels in how easily the first finger slides into Makoto takes, even as a pretty gasp of his name escapes his taller boyfriend, and he shivers a little.

Makoto cants his hips back slightly with each thrust of Haru's fingers, and he winces slightly when he shifts too suddenly—immediately, Haru finds his fingers wrapping around Makoto's cock without another thought, satisfied as he watches the dip of Makoto's brows ease as any discomfort is pushed aside by pleasure, if the way he squirms over him is any indication.

He slowly jerks Makoto off as he starts to work him open, taking his time stretching his lover because he refuses to chance hurting Makoto, no matter how much Makoto begs him in that voice to go faster, more, Haru-please.

They pant into each others mouth as Haru finally slides in a third finger and starts pumping them in and out of his boyfriend in earnest, Makoto gasping out incoherent strings of syllables that are full of want and love and everything that breaks Haru's restraint, because he finally slides his fingers out and grips Makoto's hips tightly, leaning up to press one last kiss to the corner of Makoto's lips before settling back and shifting, looking up at Makoto expectantly.

Makoto's cloudy green eyes brighten slightly when they meet Haru's, and he blushes darkly –and Haru takes a moment to appreciate the way the color spreads prettily down his neck and all the way to his chest– but shifts until he's propped on his knees, so he can reach back and down to grasp Haru lightly (squeezing once, teasingly, in just the right way to make Haru's head thunk lightly back against the rim of the tub in pleasure) before he positions the head of the other teen's cock at his entrance, worrying his lower lip as he sucks in a slow, steady breath before dropping his hips and sinking down.

Haru struggles to fight the way his eyes instantly slide shut against the unbelievable heat surrounding him – hotter than even the air and water around them – and he bites down hard on his tongue to stifle the load groan that escapes him, unbidden; because he refuses to miss the face Makoto makes when he enters him.

The one he's making right now - where his green eyes lose focus but remained trained on Haru's, desperate to watch his lover right back – and his mouth hanging slightly open as he tries to suck in enough air to replace the breath lost in the long, low, keening moans that rise in his throat every time he or Haru so much as shifts.

Where his face flushes that gorgeous pink color that brings out his emerald eyes that Haru wants to drown in – eyes that are glistening, Haru realizes, any other thoughts grinding to a halt– and before he knows it, one of his hands has left Makoto's hip to ghost fingertips over his lover's face, his thumb brushing away the wetness gathered at the corner of his eye.

"'m okay," Makoto rasps, smiling shakily, dazedly for Haru's benefit, lifting one of his own hands to shakily clasp over Haru's, holding it to his cheek. "'m alright, Haru, it just - feels, good, reallyreally good," he says thickly, gazing down adoringly at his best friend.

Haru traces his thumb over Makoto's lip, and a smile twitches on his own mouth despite himself when Makoto kisses it.

"Move, please, Haru," Makoto begs him brokenly, raising his own hips to urge Haru into a rhythm - and the raven-haired teen obligingly pulls back, nearly all the way out, before swiftly lifting his hips back up as Makoto lets his own weight bring his down – dragging loud groans from both of them that bounce loudly off the walls.

In no time at all, they're moving smoothly together, the water making things even more slick and hotter than either of them could have imagined, and shouted cries are falling from Makoto's lips with each of Haru's thrusts, that ring pleasantly in Haru's head, nearly lost in the almost white-sound rushing in his ears as pleasure curls from his fingers to his toes.

"Makoto," Haru gasps suddenly, as the other boy's elbows buckle where they've latched onto the sides of the tub for support, arms shaking badly as he struggles to find leverage, and Haru sits up in a rush to catch him – shifting their balance so that Makoto falls back onto his cock with all his weight—ripping a scream of pleasure from Makoto's throat as Haru slams home.

"F-fuck, Haru-ka," Makoto wails, scrambling to wrap his arms round Haru's neck for purchase; and the sound of his sweet, gentle best friend cursing doesn't have any right to make Haru's blood burn with arousal as hot as it does.

Haru lets out an almost growl as his thrusts grow faster, and more shallow, but he stays deep in his lover, reducing Makoto to wordless mewls of pleasure that grow louder with each thrust; and then Haru feels Makoto grinding his erection against his chest and, keeping one arm wrapped tight around Makoto's waist for support as his other hand wraps around Makoto's aching cock, stroking him clumsily in time.

And that's all it takes – Makoto's mouth falls open into a silent scream as his head falls forward against his chest and his back arches into a perfect curve, his cum spattering hot and hard against Haru's chest and chin.

Haru strokes his boyfriend hard and rough through his climax, relishing each weak, choked cry of pleasure he elicits from Makoto's pretty, kiss swollen mouth, and he thrusts weakly once, twice more before the way Makoto tightens around him becomes too much, just right—and his own orgasm knocks the breath right out of him.

He has to bite down hard on his lip to keep from shouting his boyfriend's name, letting it out as a long, low moan of 'Makoto' instead, grinding his hips into Makoto's bucking ones to ride it out, before they finally come to a slow stop, slumping together in a panting heap against the tub.

They stay just like that for a while, chest to chest, both silently reveling in feeling the other's fluttering heart slow to a soothing thumpthump against the other, until they're nearly nodding off.

"Hey," Haru speaks up softly at long last, startling Makoto from where he'd been on the verge of dozing—smiling to himself good-naturedly, he let out a soft, slow sigh and started to push himself up and off from Haru's chest, figuring that that was more than likely Haru's polite way of saying 'You're heavy, and sticky, and hot, and so am I—would you kindly get off me," but was surprised when the arms that had come to wrap around his waist tightened, preventing his disentanglement and subsequent escape.

"What is it, Haru?" Makoto asks, blinking up curiously at Haru even as he slumps back down against Haru to snuggle up against him.

But Haru isn't even looking at him. He's staring off to the side distractedly, and when Makoto followed his gaze…

"Well I told you we'd make a mess," Makoto laughs, smiling fondly as he watches Haru's eyes follow a small, steady trickle of water that's slowly forming a not-so little puddle on the floor.

Haru doesn't say anything for a long pause, and just when Makoto starts to worry—

"I want to swim in all the puddles," Haru admits quietly, staring at his reflection with fascination, a dangerous gleam in his eye as he swivels his head to look at Makoto.

"Can-"

"Haru, no."

••∞• Owari •∞••

A/N: So this happened. And whereas the last fic took me three days to write, this took me less than one day and was getting close to the same length when I was just like omgSTAHP you already made 10 out of the 14 pages of this story smut soHELPME (I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing). And so yeah. It's probably gonna keep happening. This whole HaruMakoto writing onslaught business. N'ways, I hope you liked it, lemme know, give me a siiiign~ Hit me baby one more time. (I need to get out more. I'm going now.)

Please Read and Review~