His mother rises from the bed. The space she took bounces up to flatness right after the loss of contact as her eyes remained fixed on the entrance door, and before he could say anything, she leaned over to give his forehead a soft kiss. He shuts his eyes upon the touch of her lips against his skin, and when he opens them again. Her thin brows are in a slight furrow, indicating her concern.
"I'll be back, sweetheart."
The warmth of her wake left its trails, and only then did he turn his head to the door where she was running. She disappears shortly after speaking to the man whose raven eyes bore back at him from the entryway—intense and raw. A deep sting resonates in his heart at the connection of their gaze. He could not point his finger for an explanation.
The throbbing pain he felt carried a peculiar remnant of desperation. He pauses. His brows churn upwards in unease.
And. . .yearning.
He scoots further to the edge of the bed, yet before his toes could touch the coldness of the polished marble and before his lips could part to call his name, brisk arms surround him, pulling his weight off the mattress. A clipped gasp escapes his lips as the strands of his hair brush his cheeks at the sudden stir of gravity. He feels light-headed.
The corner of his eyes narrows into a delicate smile. His thin arms move to envelop the trembling shoulders—so strong yet only distinguish a fragile boy underneath.
My big fragile boy.
A shuddering breath left the anxious lips pressing against the side of his neck as his little fingers caressed the base of the man's nape and ran his fingertips through his hair.
The arms around his waist and across his back tighten, wrinkling his pajamas, putting them to his misery. Oh, dear. A minute had passed, but the silence from Hiro was disturbing. His eyes fall to the man's shoulders at the alarming movement.
His shaking had worsened.
It feels wrong seeing him like this.
No. Who did this?
He contained his tears and rested his cheek against the man's head, his arms tightening around him as well. He breathes for strength and tries to calm himself. Who did this to my baby? "Breathe, love."
Hiro followed what he was told, and Jin could not help the deep frown painting across his soft lips. His chest started aching at that moment. He was upset. Too upset at the whole world. He plants a soft kiss on the man's silky and tousled hair.
"I'm here for you." He whispers, inhaling the scent of his hair. His fingers rub and play against the toned bumps of his muscular shoulders underneath such a lucky piece of clothing, and he watches them relax from trapped tension underneath his palms.
"I'm assuming you had a talk with your father?"
Jin rubs small circles against his man's shoulder blades. That must have been why his mother rushed to find Mr. Harashi.
She, too, might be worried.
Hiro had spoken about his relationship with his family. It was brief. All he knew was that it was unstable. A confusing dynamic. He had clues, but could still not pinpoint why, but there was just no way a well-loved child could act like this. There are clearly issues in this family behind closed curtains.
He wants to find out why.
Hiro presses his nose to Jin's neck, staring with his half-squinted eyes at Jin's behind. His arm around his beloved's waist instinctively glides down against the crumpled cotton shirt to cup Jin's right cheek. He wrapped his fingers around its roundness and squeezed incoherently, pressing its softness against his shaking palm. And he groans. His heart tingles from heaviness. He pulls his beloved Jin-ah higher, exhaling a breath of pure relief as he shoves his face to Jin's chest, his ears perking at the sound of his beloved's calming heartbeat.
He's here. Jin-ah is here with him.
"Talk to me, Hiro." Jin rubs and pats Hiro's back with gentle hands and comforts his depressed cub while resting his cheek on top of the man's head. "Was it an argument?"
Hiro responds with a low-toned hum, almost sounding like a whine of plea as his deep groan vibrates against his chest.
He places another soft kiss on his head. "Did you talk back?"
A small smile paints his lips when Hiro shakes his head. He slides his hands off Hiro's shoulders to reach and cup the man's face, wanting to take a good look at him.
Oh, my upset handsome boy.
"Responded." Hiro paused to breathe deeply under his scrutiny, shutting his crestfallen eyes and leaning more into his hands. "Yes."
He could see the visible frustration in his eyes before he attempted to hide them from him. It was that bad?
Oh, Hiro.
"Were you hurt mentally?" Jin whispers to him and pats the man's hefty chest. "And here?"
Hiro's crumpled brows ease and flatten. His dilated pupils flicker to him with a vivid emotion of vulnerability.
"It's okay to feel that way." Won't he share?
A different frustration swells inside Hiro as he buries his face flat to Jin's chest.
Oh, dear.
"Will you not tell me what it is about?"
He fiddles with the man's hair. His fingers rub against his thick ends while noticing how Hiro froze to his question. He huffs quietly and pouts. "Your father was upset, was he?"
Hiro inhales the scent of him before lifting his gaze to him, conflicted. "Yes."
Jin meets and holds his gaze. Clearly, there must be some sort of misunderstanding between them. Or it is what he hopes. Cupping his cheeks, his thumb caresses the frown on his lips.
"Maybe because he cares."
Hiro's lips part, appalled. He quickly searched his beloved's amethyst eyes for a meager sign of humor, which his little one happens to find entertainment in taunting him, and never fails to do so. "Why?" Why can he not see it in the light of day?
"He loves you, darling."
Hiro blanks out on any further hope of thought, unable to understand anything. "And you love me." Does his Jin-ah not? No, he must.
His beloved looks at him in astonishment at what he said. He always does, however, the way the soft shape of his eyes enlarges and his plump lips part deliciously makes his pants grow tighter and his heart quiver in uneasiness.
"Well. . .yes. I do love you, Hiro."
Yes, darling. You do.
"So he does not." Hiro huffs in relief, submerging his too-warm cheeks into his beloved's shoulder. His knees used to quiver at the need to run twenty miles of bottled-up numbness, to sweat, to feel a tinge of pain. Now, he wanted nothing but to crash against the solid floors to escape its bewildering ticklishness. He puts a mental note to do it later.
"What do you mean, Hiro?"
His sweatpants tighten even more. Fuck. Me. "Not the same."
Jin squeezed his cheeks, laughing lightly. "Of course it's not the same, dearest."
He stares at Jin, adoring the smile on his lovely face despite the turmoil in his head. It is not the same. It could never be. Nothing is convincing him that diamond and dirt are the same material. He tips his face more to the hands and small fingers caressing his cheeks. The heaviness of his heart was slowly dissipating. He closes his eyes, depending on the only warmth he feels. He rubs his cheek against the warm pulse on Jin's wrist. "Did I do well?"
I like this.
"Mhmm, yes, you always do." His beloved laughs and turns his head to kiss his cheek, making his heart almost pop a nerve.
I like this very much.
What a lovely sound. His heart continues to pulse funnily in his chest—the tingling sensation spreading and stimulating every numb organ in his body. He breathes in the taste of delight, forced to lament over his too ecstatic member.
"Love comes in different forms, and mine happens to have patience. I will not convince you to tell me anything."
Fingers rub through the scalp on the back of his head, the sensation traveling straight to his groin. His half-lidded eyes snap up, his breathing labored at the kind eyes beaming down at him, seeing past the darkness that is swelling inside him even at this moment. His head was plummeting into such a dangerous space.
"Yours is the only form I know." He whispers the undying truth.
Soft, smiling lips pressed against his forehead. "Don't say that."
He shoves his face into Jin's chest, feeling the tip of his ears and his erection burning. Only you matter.
Jin rubs the back of Hiro's head and turns his gaze to the windows, studying the horizon of green bed trees that danced with the melody of the sea breeze. It is a beautiful home. He thought so as he could not push back the unnerving anxiety growing within the pit of his stomach, feeling like something would happen—that someone was watching them out in the woods, ready for things to unfold.
The peace now. . .it feels temporary.
He detects a slight movement by the door, and his eyes turn round, surprised to find a small head peeking from outside. The troubled pair of chocolate eyes inspects the large empty room until it lands on them.
The arms around his body tighten, following Hiro's low and whining grumble.
Seven. . .This is why he said seven?
Haru is the seventh person.
Meeting his stunned gaze, Haru beams and pushes the door open. He makes a run inside with a messy bouquet of tulips in his hands and the familiar troubled butler chasing him in tow—picking up the fallen leaves scattered on his trail from the roughly handled flowers.
"Nini!"
Haru's keen smile illuminates breathtakingly. His round and flushed cheeks carried the same stain of pinkness from the petals and the same sweetness of an unrestrained heart. His adorable footsteps echo over the marble floors seconds after his smile drops, and his choco eyes hide in narrowness. Before Jin could comprehend what was happening, soft cries erupted as the little boy picked up his pace towards their direction and stopped beside them, delivering him the flowers in his hands while pitifully sobbing.
Oh, my.
He gives Hiro's shoulder a light caress as he worryingly bends his head to look at his adorable visitor, whose short arms are stretched up to him, tiptoeing in his little white golf shoes, trying to reach him with his cotton jacket lifted to his cheeks. The top of Haru's head could roughly surpass Hiro's lower thighs. He was slightly staggering on his feet, fighting for his life against his uncle's massiveness.
Oh, dear. "Is that for me?" He hums softly.
A sharp gasp left his lips when Hiro strode towards the bed on long and swift legs. He flutters his lashes. The comforter has touched his behind with his back pressed against the man's sturdy chest, whose arms are wrapped seamlessly around him—face sowed to the side of his neck.
His silence and sulking behavior are still discernible.
Jin breathes and leans his weight on the man's chest. He put his palms on Hiro's parted rock-hard thighs at the sides of his slender ones and offered them a praising pat.
Haru sniffs and rubs his eyes from tears, shortly pausing in confusion after seeing them gone at their previous spot before sprinting towards them, the flowers still in his hands as his hair bounces with his little steps.
His heart thaws in too much awe. He reaches out to accept his flowers. "Thank you, Haru. These are lovely." He whispers softly, eyeing the butler from a distance for a spare napkin, which the worried man rushes to give.
Jin held Haru's small face and gently wiped the tears from his cheek. He then brought the napkin over his nose, urging him to blow his snoot.
Haru carefully grips his clothes, his new tears staining his flushed face as he blows onto the napkin.
"Where did you go in your dreams. You slept so long, Nini."
Jin looks at Haru in slight astonishment. "Was I asleep too long? Nini was indeed having a nice dream."
"We did not play yesterday and yesterday and yesterday. You did not come to find me." Haru continues to sob and stutter from his hiccups. "My room is not scary. I hide the dinosaurs."
Jin bites his bottom lip to stop his smile as he hears his words. The last thing he wanted was for Haru to misunderstand that he was not taking him seriously. "Thank you for hiding the dinosaurs." He grazes his thumb over the plumpness of his cheek. "But aren't they your friends? I want to meet them too."
Haru closes his eyes. His shaking lids were a sign that he was about to cry further.
"And I'm sorry that I couldn't."
He felt a light grunt against his neck, arms squeezing him tight. Jin looks up without moving his head when Haru's soft sob erupts. He felt like he had to take care of two different sulking children.
"How about your other friends?" Jin brushes Haru's thin layer of bangs while his other hand goes to touch and intertwine with Hiro's large hand on his stomach. He was rewarded with a slight sigh of relief and felt a little weight of his sulking cub's relaxed body against his shoulders.
Haru looks up at him. His cheeks, nose, and lower lids are a little swollen now from crying. He turns his little head behind. Jin follows Haru's sneaky gaze towards the butler, who is standing upright near the foot of the bed, watching them back with curiosity at their sudden shift of attention.
"Butler Yang never catches me. He is like a turtle. Like Oogway, but master oogway is a fast turtle." Haru whispers to him, a slight pout forming on his lips. "And my mommy gets mad when she finds out."
Jin nods and tries to keep a calm expression, despite the humor in his words about a cartoon movie, which has left a smile on his lips. Yet, his heart heaves when he realizes Haru has no one else to play with but his aged butler.
It's taunting. Haru almost reminds him of someone—someone who is also sulking at the moment.
"Is that so? Well, your butler is a grown-up. He isn't as fast as you, little one, because he needs to focus on looking after you." Jin smiles, "You know who is the fastest?" He should try playing with his uncle.
Haru beams, his smile as radiant as the sudden light in his eyes, "Milo?"
Jin pauses, registering his response. "Mi. . .lo?"
Raring chocolate eyes shift past the side of his cheek, and he watches how Haru gradually loses the sweetness of his sheepish anticipation. The little boy lowers his gaze to their fiddled fingers.
Jin sighs. Hiro. He can feel the man's tepid frown resting on his shoulder and his burning stare against the side of his face.
"Who's Milo?" Jin rubs his thumb over Haru's palm, trying to bring his attention back to him. "Don't worry about your uncle. He's. . .he has a stomach ache."
"Uncle, tummy hurt?"
Jin nods.
"Oh." Haru looks down again at his fingers, and he seems to be nervously looking around. "Milo is Uncle's big cat friend."
Surprised, Jin turns to Hiro with a small and stretching smile. "You have a pet?"
Hiro owns a cat? He did not anticipate him to be a fur parent.
It was the least he expected.
Seeing the precious smile painted on his beloved's face, Hiro hums, grinning infectiously. His hands sneakily slip inside the flimsy material of Jin's shirt, touching and massaging his stomach before they skim up to his chest.
Jin tries to keep a neutral expression and presses his thighs together. "Do you like Milo?"
Haru immediately shakes his head, his voice small and blameless. "No."
Oh?
Hiro pinches his nipples with his fingers, and he holds back his voice. His restless eyes glanced at the butler, but he was nowhere to be seen, and the doors of the room had been closed. He grips Hiro's arm and gives the man a scolding squeeze.
"W-Why? Do you not like cats?" He tries to stay calm while holding Haru's innocent eyes.
"Milo is scary." Haru touches his knees and leans. "Mommy says Milo eats children."
What?!
He felt Hiro's chest trembling and vibrating against his shoulder blades as the man shamelessly laughed in his neck.