Haru flipped the last pancake onto the stack, the kitchen smelling like warm butter and vanilla. It was a slow Sunday morning, the kind where time stretched lazy and sweet. Ichigo was at a playdate with the neighbor's kid—first time in weeks Haru had let him go without hovering like a hawk. The debt collectors' threats still echoed in his head, but today felt like a breather.
Chris leaned against the counter, apron tied loose over his simple tee and jeans, light brown hair still bed-messy from their late night. His hazel eyes watched Haru with that subtle affection, a faint blush on his cheeks. "You make flipping pancakes look sexy, Haru-san. I like it."
Haru chuckled, rolling his eyes but stealing a quick kiss. "Flatterer...huh?! Eat up before they get cold."
They sat at the table, plates loaded, coffee steaming. Chris dug in, moaning dramatically around a bite. "These are killer. Better than mine."
Haru smirked. "Secret ingredient: not burning them."
Chris laughed, that genuine, cheerful sound that lit up the whole apartment. But Haru caught the flicker—something deeper lurking in those lively eyes. The anniversary of his mom's diagnosis had passed a couple weeks ago, and Chris had been quieter since, even with the debt stuff simmering.
"You've been holding back lately," Haru said casual, sipping coffee. "Wanna spill?"
Chris poked at his pancake, smile fading a bit. "Just... old ghosts. Talking about Mom's cancer last time stirred stuff up. Made me think about your past too. The divorce—you've shared bits, but not the full mess."
Haru nodded slow, his reserved posture easing. Vulnerability wasn't his jam, but with Chris, it felt safe. "Fair. Let's trade stories then. No holding back."
Chris set his fork down, leaning forward. "Deal. You first—tell me about Aiko. The good parts, before it went south."
Haru exhaled, staring into his mug. "Met her in college. Freshman year, bio class. She was bold—sat next to me, cracked jokes about the prof's bad tie. I was the quiet guy, nose in books. She pulled me out of my shell. Dates were simple: picnics, late-night talks. She made me laugh, feel alive."
Chris smiled soft. "Sounds sweet."
"Yeah. Proposed after graduation—ring on a beach walk. Wedding was small, family and friends. Ichigo came quick, surprise but the best kind. Early days were golden: baby giggles, her singing lullabies, us tag-teaming midnight feeds. I thought we had it locked down."
Haru paused, eyes distant. "But work crept in. My office job ramped up—deadlines, overtime. Hers too. We drifted. Arguments over dumb stuff: dishes, bills. Then bigger—me not being 'present,' her feeling trapped. I shut down, got defensive. Didn't see the cracks till too late."
Chris reached across, hand on Haru's. "The affair?"
Haru nodded grim. "Coworker of hers. Found texts one night. Hit like a freight train. She said it was 'emotional' at first, then more. We fought ugly. She left, took half the stuff. Custody battle wrecked me—lawyers, tears, Ichigo confused. She got weekends, but then job moved her cities away. Now it's calls, rare visits. I don't hate her—hurt, yeah. But she's Ichigo's mom. I focus on him."
Chris squeezed his hand. "You're a rock, Haru-san. Handled it way better than most."
Haru shrugged, but his tired eyes warmed. "Your turn. Dive deeper on the cancer days. What kept you going?"
Chris leaned back, voice dropping. "The fear was constant. Mom's first chemo—she puked for days, weak as a kitten. I'd skip school to help, lie to teachers about 'family emergencies.' Dad leaving? That gutted us. Note on the counter like we were nothing. I punched a wall that night, knuckles bled. Mom bandaged them, told me we'd be stronger without him."
Haru listened, thumb rubbing Chris's knuckles now.
"Worst was the isolation. Friends faded—too awkward. I'd sit in hospital waiting rooms, homework forgotten, just praying. Bills came relentless. Sold my bike, Mom's jewelry. Then Rico—shady as hell, but desperate times. Borrowed the cash, paid for treatments. Mom rang the bell—remission. Hugged her so tight that day. But the debt... it's like chains. Reminds me how close we came to losing everything."
Chris's eyes misted. "Kept going for her. And now... for you and Ichigo too."
Haru pulled him across the table into a hug, chairs scraping. "Proud of you, Chris. That strength? It's why I fell hard."
Chris blushed, pulling back but staying close. "Fell, huh? When'd that happen?"
Haru grinned faint. "First week. You with Ichigo—pure magic. Made my guarded heart crack open."
The air shifted—stories shared, walls lower. Chris stood, tugging Haru up. "C'mere."
They ended up in the bedroom, door closed soft. Chris pushed Haru against it, lips finding his in a slow burn. Haru kissed back deep, hands on Chris's hips, pulling flush. Tongues met lazy but hot, breaths quickening.
Clothes shed slow—Haru's shirt unbuttoned, Chris's tee lifted off. Skin pressed warm, Haru's medium build against Chris's slim one. Hands explored: Haru's tracing Chris's back, thumbs dipping into waistband; Chris's nails grazing Haru's chest, circling sensitive spots that drew low groans.
They tumbled to the bed, Chris on top, rocking hips in a teasing grind. Friction sparked through boxers, building sweet tension. Haru's mouth wandered—kissing down Chris's jaw, nipping collarbone, sucking faint marks. Chris arched, breath hitching, fingers tangling in Haru's hair, guiding lower.
Undergarments slipped away, bare now—sweat-slick, hearts racing. Bodies moved in rhythm: slow rolls, deep presses, every slide electric. Haru's hand wrapped firm, stroking in time with thrusts. Chris gasped, legs wrapping tighter, nails leaving light trails on Haru's shoulders.
Pleasure coiled intense—whispers of names, gasps mingling. Chris tensed first, release crashing with a muffled cry against Haru's neck. Haru followed, body shuddering, spilling hot as waves hit.
They collapsed tangled, breaths evening, foreheads touching. Chris smiled shy. "You make the past feel... smaller."
Haru kissed him tender. "Good. 'Cause our future's bigger."
Afternoon brought Ichigo back—giggles, snack demands, park run. Evening routine: dinner laughs, bath splashes, bedtime stories. As Ichigo drifted off, Haru and Chris shared a look—backstories woven tighter, bond stronger.