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There's just something about Scara lately. Kazuha can't quite put his finger on it.
He's started acting a bit odd. Not in a bad way, just… quieter? Softer. Not that Kazuha was ever going to complain, of course. He finds it cute.
The first time he notices is during an especially difficult day for him. He's hopelessly poring over his notes in their shared living room, the words have long stopped meaning anything. Not even sitting on the couch – he's sat on the carpet, surrounded by scattered books and pens with his hand buried in his mess of hair.
Had he forgotten to shower the night before? Maybe. He thinks he remembers passing out on his desk after staying up so late drafting some assignment he has due soon. Although, he also remembers that he'd woken that morning in his bed, somehow.
Kazuha groans, his head falling on the coffee table right into the open pages of his textbook. He's so all over the place right now. Probably even worse than Heizou at this point…
And it's only been barely an hour… Would some more coffee help? Oh but… he's already had the last of what they had, and he really can't get up to buy some more right now.
Ah… this is hell.
And then, distantly, there's a click of the door unlocking. Kazuha hears the sound of Scara setting his keys down, his bag, he hears him change out of his shoes one by one and Kazuha closes his eyes, focusing entirely on just those little sounds of company. He hears his steady footsteps as he comes around the corner into the room, and then the pause when he sees the mess Kazuha must be.
Kazuha only manages to turn his head to the side, cheek smushed and just barely peeking out over his arms to glance at him in lieu of proper greeting.
And what a beautiful sight he is. His baggy t-shirt he'd thrown on before going out. His hair, tossed from what must've been a light breeze. Sharp blue-purple eyes that seemingly never went without their eyeliner… Eyes that were now looking at him with something of exasperation. Adorable.
…Welcome home.
He closes his eyes and lets out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Something about him must be magic, Kazuha has long since concluded. Divine maybe. Some sort of god. Because he can't picture any other reason that just the sight of him is enough to settle some of the stress building up inside him.
Or maybe it was the fact that he's falling for him. Maybe.
He hears the shuffle as Scara walks closer, having to sidestep the books laying haphazardly on the floor.
And then he places something down on the table beside Kazuha's head. Kazuha blinks, rubbing his eyes as he lifts himself back upright. Coffee?
"The guys got my order wrong," Scara says, as if that were explanation enough, moving to sit on the couch behind him. "It's too sweet for me, so take it. You seem like you need it more than me anyway."
"Thank you," Kazuha says. His voice feels tired.
He leans back, tipping his head back to rest against the couch. Scara's above him, looking down at him with an unreadable expression. "Would you like for me to make you something too?"
"Don't bother. You look horrible."
Kazuha chuckles. He certainly feels it too.
"How hurtful, after I spent so much effort to look good for you."
"Sure, sure," Scara rolls his eyes. "You look better when you aren't minutes away from passing out."
"So you do think I look good," he teases, and Scara clicks his tongue, flicking Kazuha's forehead with his forefinger.
"Just hearing what you want to hear, aren't you," he mutters. Though his tone still lacks any true annoyance. It's almost fond. Kazuha wants to hear it more often.
Kazuha chuckles, before letting it fade out into a peaceful silence.
For a moment.
"…has the work gotten harder?"
"Hm?"
"I mean…" Scara hesitates, looking over at the side as his hand briefly comes up to gesture in the air, "you just seem… busier than usual."
"Oh," Kazuha blinks, and shakes his head, "it's not that, I don't think."
"No?"
"The workload itself is as it should be, I'm just…" Kazuha trails off, bringing his legs up to hug them against his chest, silent as he struggles to find the words.
"Struggling to keep up?"
"…Yeah," Kazuha sighs, "in a way."
He shifts a bit, crossing his ankle over the other as he picks up the coffee, idly twirling the straw. "My mind just isn't functioning as well. I feel like there's too much fog to think through, like I'm… suffocating, almost."
Scara hums, "why not just take a break?"
"…I should. It'd be nice to get out of the house for a bit," he says, letting his eyes rest for a moment. "I suppose I'm just finding it hard to justify."
He takes the straw into his mouth, letting the all too familiar sweetness coat his tongue. Kazuha pauses, and smiles.
"Right… well," Scara clears his throat as he gets up, almost as if he'd been caught in something and is now trying to hide, how funny.
"I'll be in my room if you need anything."
"Of course."
And then Kazuha takes off the plastic lid from the cup. And he softens when he sees the warm swirls of maple syrup overtop the latte. His usual order.
Kazuha furrows his brows. He could try some energy drinks. For a change. But… they're carbonated…
Kazuha sighs, putting the can back into its place in the refrigerated shelf. Maybe he'll stick with coffee.
He brings his scarf further up his face, chilled from how long he's been standing in that one spot before grabbing one of the cans of iced coffee and continuing to wander the aisles. It'll do.
Oh they have new ramen flavours. Maybe he'll take one or two…
Ah, where did Scara go again?
If he had to guess…
Kazuha peeks around the corner, and thankfully, naturally, sees exactly who he's expecting to see. Currently stuffing his bag with cans of cherry coke. Almost the entire box full. Because of course. Kazuha chuckles.
Scara turns his head to glare at him.
"What."
Kazuha shakes his head, walking closer up to him until he's close enough to nudge his shoulder with his own. "Nothing~"
He tries to tilt his head to the side to rest it on said shoulder, but Scara just scoffs and pushes his head away with the cold can still in his hand against Kazuha's forehead. Kazuha pouts.
"I'm just surprised how often you drink those, really," Kazuha continues, "I would've thought they'd be too sweet for you."
Scara doesn't answer at first, just looks at the red can in his hand. Kazuha thinks he sees his eyes flicker over to his lips for a brief moment. And then he drops another into the bag.
"…they are."
Kazuha waits for him to continue, but Scara doesn't elaborate.
"Just drop that in here," Scara nudges the bag in his hand toward his direction, looking at the coffee in his hand, "if that's all you're getting."
Kazuha sighs. The coffee can clicks as he drops it into the bag, right on top of the frankly unreasonable pile of cherry soda.
"You know," Kazuha hums as they continue down the isle, "I'm going to weasel your reason out of you eventually."
Scara sighs, heavy and exaggerated, "can't I just like the taste?"
"You just admitted you don't."
Scara narrows his eyes at him. "How about you worry more about yourself first."
"I worry about myself plenty."
"Uh huh, sure you do. And how much have you slept lately?"
Clearly not nearly as much as I should've, he thinks as they make their leisurely way toward the till. Thankfully there isn't really anyone in here at this late an hour. The only noise the steady hum of the lights and above them.
Instead, Kazuha shrugs.
"Enough."
Scara swings the bag into the counter, taking out their drinks one by one for the tired cashier to scan.
"Somehow, I don't think I believe you," Scara hums, "I wonder why."
"It's hardly my fault. I can't afford to miss out on any time I could be spending on the assignment…" Kazuha mutters.
"Would you even get outside if I didn't drag you out myself?"
"You dragged me out because you ran out of your dear soda and didn't want to go alone."
"Hey. Don't go putting words in my mouth, I never said that last part."
"You didn't have to, you're too obvious sweetheart," he teases, "you're addicted to my company almost as much as you're addicted to those cherry sodas."
"…I'm not addicted to soda."
Even the cashier glances up at that in suspicion. Kazuha bites back his chuckle.
"You had six cans yesterday," he points out, "It's getting to be a problem."
"And you're getting to be annoying," Scara grumbles, but it lacks venom.
Kazuha smiles. "Two things can be true."
Scara finishes paying, sweeping the cans back into the bag in one impatient go, and Kazuha waits until they've taken just enough steps away.
And then he leans in, right up to his ear to whisper, "I don't hear you denying my first point though."
Scara's breath hitches and his cheeks dust a cute fluster, "you are so impossible–!" he hisses, shoving him away by as he tries to escape.
.
.
.
The colder, refreshing air hits them both the moment the doors open, and they walk home together, side by side in a calm silence. Scara's plastic bag crinkling as it swings from the hand opposite him.
Kazuha brings his scarf higher once more to fight off a bit of the chill, and he can't help but find himself looking off to the side. Scara's seemingly unaffected, as always. Even wearing those shorts of his.
Kazuha admires the way Scara's short hair floats into his face, blown forward by the soft breeze hitting the back of his head, how cute he looks wrapped up in that oversized red hoodie that's clearly stolen. Probably out of revenge, honestly. Kazuha does have a habit of reaching for Scara's clothes instead of his own. They share a wardrobe. It's not always intentional.
But then his eyes get drawn above them, and he catches the sight of the moon, small but bright as it shines in the night sky. He can see hints of the tiny specks of stars dusting the darkness.
It's a bit underwhelming, all things considering, what with the light pollution hiding selfishly away the most of it.
But Kazuha still finds it breathtaking.
It's only when he hears Scara's footsteps stop a few meters ahead of him that he realises that he's stopped himself.
Scara turns to look back at him, having noticed Kazuha no longer at his side. And Kazuha offers him a shy smile.
"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" he says, turning to meet Scara's questioning gaze.
Kazuha sees the split second as Scara registers it as something else and… ah. Well. Kazuha hadn't necessarily intended to phrase it like that, but then Scara dismisses it anyway with a shake of his head.
"It's just a rock," he says, slowly walking back to Kazuha's side.
Kazuha blinks, tilting his head as he looks back up at it, "maybe…"
"But its also more than that," he starts, "its the softness of its gentle, quiet observation. The way it stays hidden behind the light of day, satisfied with being just present, lending its invisible help without ever having to be asked."
"It's not too dissimilar to you," he adds, quieter.
"Are you comparing me to the moon?"
Kazuha falls silent for a moment, thinking before eventually opening his mouth.
"No," he closes his eyes, "I think of you more similar to the sun. People can't help but gravitate toward you, even despite your fear that they might get hurt were they to get too close. And you feel so strongly, that you wind up burning yourself too."
Kazuha's eyes flutter open, caught by the way Scara is looking at him. His eyes wide with emotion. They almost seem to glow, and Kazuha almost forgets to breathe.
"Although," Kazuha smiles, speaking softly as to not shatter the tender moment between them, "I wont deny that you are just as beautiful as the moon as well."
They stand there for a moment, in silence, Scara having been caught by surprise, not really knowing how to respond.
Kazuha doesn't mind. He does cherish moments like this. He cherishes him.
And then Scara tightens his face, turning to the side with a hand going up to fidget with his bangs as if to hide himself for his gaze, hiding his warming cheeks and flushed ears that give him away anyway.
"Don't be ridiculous…"
Kazuha smiles fondly, but doesn't push it further. Instead, he resumes their pace back to their home, if not a bit slower than they'd been walking before, with Scara slotting back into the space by his side. Though this time, rather than looking straight ahead, Scara looks off the the side, gaze resting along the pavement, seemingly lost in thought.
It's not until the wind blows into his back does Kazuha tear his gaze away from his dearest friend and look back up into the sky.
Scara sighs beside him, as if having already recovered from earlier.
"What is it now?" he asks, tone perhaps more curious than he might've intend it to be.
"There seems to be some rain coming soon," he responds, "only a light shower, but we might still get caught in it briefly if we don't hurry back."
Scara shrugs, not even bothering to question Kazuha's uncanny sense of weather anymore, having long since grown to expect things like this. Still, he makes no effort to move any faster, so Kazuha doesn't either.
"A little rain won't melt us."
"Is your bike still in repairs?"
"Hm?" Kazuha looks up from his phone, from where he was just scrolling through take out menus, eyes kinda glazing over as they started to blend into each other. "It is. I wont be getting it back for another week or so."
Scara hums in acknowledgement, not even bothering to look up from his own phone, still laying across the couch with his leg propped up on his knee. He has very nice legs.
"…did you need to borrow it?" Kazuha asks.
Scara doesn't reply immediately. "No. I still have my car anyway."
Then he holds out his phone to dangle it in front of Kazuha, "how's this place sound?"
Oh, that's not a bad choice. Kazuha takes the phone with a nod and throws his own order to the cart before handing it back. "Oh and I'll pay for half as well," he says as he prepares to send the money, "how much was it again?"
"… about a thousand mora," he mutters.
Kazuha's thumb hovers over the numbers. He pauses, and tries to hold back his chuckle. That's not right. Wasn't is closer to..?
He sends over the full amount, and he's rewarded with a cute little pout glare from the other.
Scara clicks his tongue, then goes back to his phone.
.
.
.
The knock comes a bit after.
Kazuha gets to his feet with a small stretch, making his way over before Scara can even think to move. He thanks the delivery driver, balancing the warm paper bags in his arms before bringing them back into the living room.
There's already a scent of food wafting into the air.
"Smells good," he sighs, setting it all down onto the coffee table in front of them. Opening the containers one by one, he can't wait to dig in.
Scara only hums in acknowledgement, already reaching for the chopsticks.
Now. Takeout fish is hardly the best kind to have. But the moment the first bite makes in into his mouth, he almost melts. He didn't realise how much he's been craving something like this. He can hardly hold himself back from eating his fill.
And before he even realises what he's doing, he's already reaching over and plucking one of the crystal shrimp straight from Scara's container.
"…Really?"
Kazuha hums innocently as he takes a bite. He has such great taste. Scara clicks his tongue, retaliating by reaching straight back toward Kazuha's rice. But Kazuha intercepts him halfway, trapping his chopsticks with his own with a soft click.
They both pause. Eyes meet. Almost like a challenge. Scara's narrow, Kazuha smiles.
"Oh please," Kazuha says, nudging the chopsticks aside anyway, "there's no way you're eating all of this on your own."
Scara scoffs, and soon enough, what was meant to be a pleasant meal devolves into clashes over food, stealing bites from under each other's noses without ever once asking permission, already forgotten on whose was whose. Not that it matters anymore. Communism.
And eventually, the containers empty out. Kazuha gathers them absentmindedly, stacking them inside one another. One still has a few bites left, so he tips it into what's left of his rice, using it to finish it all off.
Gods, he hadn't realised just how hungry he was… now that he's actually eaten, fully satiated… the difference is night and day. Thank goodness they ordered so much, there was no way his own order would've been nearly enough.
Then he pauses, chewing slowly as he thinks.
Hey… this really was a pretty large amount of food, wasn't it?
Especially when Scara always eats so much less than him.
Especially for the price they split.
He glances over at Scara, who at some point completely gave up trying to eat. Now just watching him with his arms crossed, newly-empty can of cherry soda forgotten in his hand. When he notices Kazuha's gaze, he looks up to meet it, lifting it from where it had been looking at. Right where his chopsticks are still resting on his bottom lip.
A smug grin appears on Scara's face.
Kazuha's eyes narrow in suspicion. "You added more to the order, didn't you?"
He shrugs, "so what if I did? Not like it went to waste anyway."
"Besides," Scara continues, "just when was the last time you bothered to have a proper meal?"
And at that, Kazuha blinks.
…
He… he really hasn't eaten much the past few days, now that he thinks about it.
His face grows warmer, and he hears Scara chuckle as he gets up from the couch, casually swiping a stray grin of rice from Kazuha's lip as he passes by, licking it off his thumb as as he leaves.
And Kazuha… he puts down the bowl back onto the table once he's left the room, head falling into his hands as he feels his cheeks grow red.
This man… he's going to be the death of him, truly.
Who knew that having some actual food in your system would boost your energy this much? Or at the very least, make you halfway functional, compared to the deathly sluggish pace he'd been moving at the past few days.
And so! He decides to take full advantage and… still not get any work done.
Instead, he puts in his earbuds, — the wired ones are just better, — throws on some shuffled music, and decides to get some stuff done around the apartment for once. He still feels tired, mentally speaking. But, better to do something than have nothing done at all.
He bends down to his knees as he opens the finished laundry, fresh warmth hitting his face as he rakes the clothes into the basket.
He hums to himself softly as he brings the basket to the rack, shaking out each piece of clothing and draping it over the wires, one by one. There's a slight hop to his step as he feels his mind melt into the routine movements, small tapping of his foot against the floor along the beat of his music.
Then one of the pieces slips off the rack and down to the floor. That's unfortunate…
Kazuha has to bend back down onto his hands and knees to reach in through the hanging fabric, the ever so slight damp cloth getting in his face and he has to push it away as he grasps the fallen clothing. He sighs, leaning back up when a hand on his shoulder makes him jump slightly.
He barely even has the chance to process who it is when his eyes catch on the body bending over his shoulder and shuffling through the hamper.
Kazuha freezes, suddenly having to make a very conscious effort to keep his gaze forwards, trying his absolute hardest to not stare as Scara's bare chest, still dripping with water from his damp hair that hung down.
And he tries very hard to not let his eyes move across to where the towel is wrapped around his hips right beside him, just low enough that he can see the V pointing down to what lay underneath. Hidden by a single towel, one that could fall away just like that and–
Gods… he's even wearing his navel piercing.
Curse his breathtakingly beautiful roommate and his tendency to walk around the apartment half-naked. He's really given him too much to fantasise about at night.
Kazuha snaps back to reality as Scara pulls one of the earbuds from his ears.
"Earth to Kazuha, are you even listening?" he asks, other palm flat on the pile of clothes still left on in the hamper as he tilts his head to look back at him.
With Scara's near-naked body shielding him from the light, mind focused only on those sharp eyes, Kazuha doesn't think he minds being under him, even if the specifics of the position are a bit different than he'd otherwise daydream about.
And then Scara narrows his eyes and pushes Kazuha's head back with a poke to the forehead.
"Wha–"
"How about you pay attention when I'm talking to you, Kaedehara," Scara teases with faux annoyance as he straightens out his back, lowering down to join Kazuha on the floor, "I've been calling out to you for ages already, just how distracted are you?"
Kazuha huffs with a smile, feeling the slight warmth in his face.
"I was listening to music," he takes out the remaining earbud, taking the other end from Scara's hand and putting them in his pocket.
With Kazuha making an intense effort to keep his eyes from dropping down.
Scara's habit of squatting pairing horribly with the fact that if Kazuha dared to peek, he's certain he'd be able to see exactly what he really can't afford to right now.
Not that he hasn't seen it before…
What? He lives with a man who has no shame in having his body seen, it was going to happen eventually.
"Sure, let's go with that," Scara taunts, that cute, smug grin on his lips as he leaned closer, "I've been asking if you've seen my shirt."
"Don't you have any left in the wardrobe?"
Scara shrugs, "I'm looking for one of the black ones."
"You have like, fifty," Kazuha says, "they can't all be here. Sounds like you just didn't bother looking."
Scara scoffs, standing back up, "how rude."
"Honestly, why do you even have so many in the first place when you walk around like–"
But then Kazuha's eyes meet Scara's and the sparkle of amusement shuts him up like he'd been caught.
"Oh? what was that?" he taunts, leaning over him, until their faces are just a breath apart with Kazuha's heart racing. Completely towering over him from where Kazuha remained knelt on the floor. He can smell his shampoo. And his voice is low and taunting, Kazuha's ears latch onto ever single note. "Sorry I don't think I heard you."
It sends shivers up his spine.
"I'm choosing not to finish that thought." He says, playing off calm and unaffected, because its all he can do. Closing his eyes, hands on his lap to suppress any… unneeded physical reactions that might show themselves.
"Pfft, coward," Scara teases, plucking the pants out from Kazuha's hands. And Kazuha only has the brief split second that he opens his eyes before he immediately whips his head back around. Fingers tense on his lap as he now has to deal with the rapid beating of his heart.
Because of course he'd not bother to move anywhere more private before letting the towel drop and bending over to slip on the pants.
Of course.
Still, Kazuha keeps his voice unaffected.
"Those are still damp, y'know."
"What a coincidence, so am I."
"They just fell on the floor a moment ago."
"Eh," he can practically hear Scara roll his eyes.
"Won't kill me."
"What a stubborn man you are," he hums.
"Sounds to me like you're trying to convince me to stay naked."
And Kazuha can't help but laugh. A nervous chuckle, but hopefully Scara doesn't catch that part. Because gods, the temptation to go along with it is stronger than it reasonably should be.
"I never said that."
"Mhm."
And then Kazuha feels Scara's arms cross overtop his head, and he looks up to see Scara lean over him once more. Face somehow only smugger than it'd been just moments before.
"You didn't have to," he nods his head over, "your body is giving you away."
And in a brief panic, Kazuha's eyes widen. Lifting his hands as he looks down to see, thankfully, nothing incriminating.
Kazuha lets out a heavy, near-humiliated sigh as he lowers his head, Scara's gleeful laughter ringing in his head as he watched him leave through the corner of his eye. Even so, his cheeks still burns from the smile branded on his face.
He still looks good. Even as he gloats in Kazuha's embarrassment, even as he's wearing cream coloured pants that are just a size too big for him, hanging precariously from his waist in a way that's hardly better than if he had stayed in that towel.
Then again, seeing him in nothing but his own clothes does have its own appeal too.
Kazuha glances over at the hamper, at the rest of the clothes left to hang up.
Oh well, he stands up and follows his dear friend back out the door, he'll deal with any wrinkles when he has to.
"Oh by the way, you'll have to wait for a bit for the water to heat up if you plan on showering too," Scara says over his shoulder.
"You used up the last of the warm water?"
"Nah," he swipes his phone from the arm of the couch, leaning his hip on it as he scrolled. "just didn't bother waiting for it to warm in the first place."
Kazuha leans his shoulder against the doorway. A familiar red can sitting nearby. Always one within arm's reach, huh?
"Seriously?" Kazuha sighs, reaching for it without much thought, "How are you not cold?"
"I'm just built better. You on the other hand…" He glances at him briefly through the corner of his eye with a teasing grin. Kazuha shakes his head with a chuckle.
"Ouch."
There's a quiet snap as he opens the tab, a small amount of fizz foaming up to pool at the top. It prickles his tongue unpleasantly the moment he brings it up to his lips.
He never understood how he drinks these so often. They really are far too sweet, even for him.
Although, he can't help but wonder.
Would he be able to taste it on his mouth if they were to kiss?
If he were to cup his neck with his hands, pulling him in to press their lips together, splitting them apart with his tongue.
Would the sweetness linger even as they pulled apart?
Maybe its this thought that leads him to tilt the can back, letting the whole of the sweet cherry soda empty down his throat. The fizz isn't great. Kazuha's never been the biggest fan of the sharp sensation, but…
"What, am I wrong? Feel like having a cold shower too?"
His eyes fall to Scara's back, still bare, short damp hair clinging to his neck, tattoo on his nape peeking out from just underneath.
His own tongue brushes along his lips, as if trying to cling onto the electric taste. Onto Scara's taste.
Maybe if you joined in with me... maybe your body heat would be enough…
Kazuha shakes his head.
"I think I'll pass."
Scara huffs out a laugh. "Thought so."
Kazuha's eyes glance down at the can in his hand, swiping his thumb along the soft aluminium. Another thought crosses his mind. This one far more actionable.
And so the can slips past his fingers–
–as he tosses it at the back of Scara's head.
"Wha–" Though startled, Scara still manages to swirl around and fumble his ways into catching it before it falls to the floor. Kazuha can't help the laughter bubbling up past his lips. Maybe even some of the soda, as he covers his mouth, gas bubbles breaking up his giggles and making his nose sting.
Scara can't seem to hold his irritated glare much either.
"Looks like my hand slipped," Kazuha eventually manages out, wiping a tear that started to form at the corner of his eye. He smiles and tilts his head, "why don't you be a dear and clean up some of the cans you've left lying around."
"Bullshit, I heard you open that yourself."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kazuha says innocently, turning with a smile as he grabs whatever's closest, pretending to start tidying up the room. Trying and failing to hide his mischievous giggling at hearing Scara's exasperated scoff behind him.
.
.
.
At some point, the room devolves into a calm silence. The only sound, Kazuha humming as he wipes down the coffee table. He sighs as he straightens his back, rubbing it lightly to ease the slight sting from bending down for so long.
He glances back to Scara, leaning back against some shelves, catching the way he seemingly quickly averted his gaze back down the moment Kazuha turns.
His legs are crossed at the ankles as he stands, messing with the empty can in his hands.
It's an interesting habit of his, though not any less fascinating to watch. Seeing him flip and turn the can, pressing his thumbs into the aluminium, denting again and again. Until the once smooth can loses its shape entirely, and the strategic dents give way to a beautiful pattern.
"You still never told me why you keep drinking those things," Kazuha hums as he makes his way to join his side.
Another crinkle as Scara pinches one of the edges of the pattern sharp.
An exaggerated sigh, "so demanding. Would you rather I reach for a cigarette instead?"
"You still smoke even with the cans."
"Less though."
Kazuha hums, tilting his head, "I didn't realise you were trying to quit."
"Sure? I guess," he shrugs. "Bad habit and all."
Kazuha's expression softens.
"Or perhaps you're just replacing one with another," he teases.
Scara sighs once more, placing the finished can on the shelf behind him. "I miss when you were sad. You're so much more annoying now."
Kazuha laughs, "since when was I sad? I've been doing just fine."
"Hah," Scara rolls his eyes, turning his head toward him with a grin, "don't give me that. I haven't heard your incessant humming in weeks. I mourn the silence already."
That… makes Kazuha pause.
Is that really something he's noticed? Something so small? The thought that this man pays him so much care and attention to each of his most minor habits…
It makes him feel… oddly seen. In a way he's not entirely sure he's used to.
Is it really a coincidence that he always seems to appear whenever things are going poorly? Whenever he's too tired to try?
Kazuha's fingers itch as they tighten on the shelf behind him.
This man… this soft, kind-hearted man.
His heart feels so unbearably full. Full of each and every one of Scara's tender moments. Stuffed in his chest until he cant take it anymore. Until he feels as if he's about to burst.
He might just have to revisit his assessment from that night.
Scara truly does reflect the moon more each passing day.
Kazuha suddenly feels so overwhelmed with affection, like it's fighting its way out of his skin. Desperate for Scara. Desperate to be expressed.
He told himself he'd wait. That he'd wait for Scara to make the first move. That he'd wait until he was comfortable, until things were right.
But gods, he's not sure he can for much longer.
Scara's making him impatient.
Who would've thought?
He's barely in control of his own body as Kazuha suddenly takes his hand and pulls him in close, hearing the almost cat-like mrrp! rip from his throat as he collapses into Kazuha's chest, nearly tripping over his own feet as Kazuha drags him in for an impromptu dance around the middle of the room.
"What the f– are you high?!" he accuses, a pretty pink dusting his cheeks as Kazuha guides them along an invisible rhythm beating inside his chest, one hand intertwined with Scara's soft fingers, the other coming to secure itself onto Scara's thin waist.
Kazuha doesn't miss the way Scara imperceptibly relaxes into his movements. A silent permission, allowing Kazuha to twirl them around to his heart's content.
Gods, Scara.
Kazuha finds himself bubbling into giggles despite himself. "Maybe I am." Scara only sparing him an adorably puzzled glare in response.
What a selfish, greedy little man.
Just how many times will you have me fall for you until you're satisfied?
Kazuha peels himself off his bed, setting aside his laptop and making his way for... something to drink. Maybe some tea? He has a headache frankly. Maybe staying up any later would just be a bad idea.
But he's so close to finishing up…
When he steps out of his room however, he spots Scara putting on his coat by the front door. Kazuha glances out the window, to where it's already getting dark.
"Are you going somewhere?"
Scara jumps slightly, short hair spinning around his head as he whips it to his direction, though the hint of surprise on his face is quickly smothered.
"Yeah? what of it."
Kazuha sighs, shaking his head, "nothing, but isn't it quite late? Don't you have any lessons in the morning?"
Scara pauses. Then, for whatever reason, cautiously narrows his eyes.
"No," he says slowly, "do you?"
Kazuha blinks.
"...no?"
Oddly, Scara seems to relax in something resembling relief.
"Good."
He pulls Kazuha's coat off the rack and practically throws it into his arms. "Put it on, it might be cold," he says, and Kazuha isn't even given a chance to process before he's being dragged out the door.
.
.
.
Kazuha's practically tripping over himself as he clumsily fumbles his arms into the sleeves of his coat, cringing somewhat as he jogs down the sidewalk in his house slippers trying to catch up with Scara.
"H–hey! Scara, wait up–" he pants, finally managing to wrap himself in the coat well enough, "where are we going?"
"To my car."
Kazuha sighs, "alright, and where is the car taking us?"
"Just shut up already," he blurts out, shoulders tense and hand waving half aimlessly, half dismissively. "Don't you like going on adventures? Just– treat this like that or something–"
Huh... what's got him so anxious all of a sudden...
But fine. Clearly he has something planned in that stubborn head of his.
He glances to Scara's empty hands, then up to the brewing skies.
Surely then, he doesn't need Kazuha to warn him of the incoming rain.
The first few drops land on top of their heads. Just a handful, a light trace that may as well be nothing. Scara slows his steps when he feels it, and Kazuha manages to slot himself by his side as Scara suspiciously glances at him. Kazuha, naturally, keeps his expression relaxed as he straightens out his coat, securing the buttons properly now that he doesn't have to run.
And then, within seconds, the rain pours over them so heavily it mists the streets, Scara curses, turning back toward a Kazuha that couldn't hide his laughter anymore as he runs past him, slippers soaking in the rapidly puddling pathway, clutching the hood of his coat over his head.
"Oh you– little bastard–" Scara curses as he runs after him.
.
.
.
Kazuha doesn't stop laughing even as Scara practically shoves him into the car, slamming the door closed before rounding and collapsing into his own side.
"Of course..." he grumbles beside him, head leaning back into his seat, "the one fucking time I don't take the umbrella."
Kazuha settles, clicking in the seatbelt before he slides off the soaked house slippers, dropping them in the back for now. "Such a shame, if only you had noticed the greying skys earlier, or perhaps had a friend that could've warned you." Then he cringes, "my socks soaked through too..." he mumbles, feeling just how uncomfortable his feet were now. And cold. Gods he's cold.
Scara narrows his eyes at him, "oh so you did sense it." And Kazuha gives him a sheepish grin as he lifts his feet up onto the seat, peeling the socks off to join the slippers.
Scara just sighs and shakes his head, reaching to start the car instead. "Whatever, there should be a towel somewhere in the back."
"Yes sir," Kazuha says, twisting around in his seatbelt, reaching behind the seats until his fingers latch onto the fluffy material, "and I assume I shouldn't question why you keep a towel in your car?"
"'Keep' is a strong word," Scara twists the ignition, the car starting to life as they get onto the road, "it just happens to be there."
"Of course," Kazuha pats away some of the rainwater dripping down from his bangs. Thankfully the coat protected him from the worst of it.
Scara, however, was clearly not so lucky.
"Should I help dry your head with it?" he smiles.
"Not while I'm driving, the fuck?"
"I'll be very careful."
"You'll get us killed, Kazuha. Don't even try."
"Fine, fine," he chuckles as he surrenders, folding up the towel in his hands once he's done with it.
But as he glances around for somewhere he could put it, his eyes catch on something tucked into the storage compartment between them.
"Hmm… and I presume I also shouldn't ask why you keep a bottle of lube in the car as well?"
"I…Huh?" Scara shoots a quick glance over to his side, to the small bottle now in Kazuha's hand. His eyes widen. "What the– give me that!"
He nearly misses a turn as he swipes it from him, stuffing it into his own pocket and returns his hand to the wheel, gripping it so tight the knuckles are turning white. "It's not mine, it's Sethos'–"
Kazuha laughs, "oh so Sethos left his lube in your car? I don't think that's any better–"
"Shut up. Shut up he's just– it's his stupid way of making fun of me for not making a fucking m–"
And then Scara hits his fist on the wheel, letting out a loud, suffering groan instead of finishing his sentence. His ears are burning such a bright red, his face and neck too. He's almost starting to resemble a cherry himself.
Kazuha mercifully choses to stifle what he can of his giggles so as to not kill the poor guy.
"Sounds to me like you're just blaming him for your problems."
"Not my fault he's the damn source of half of those problems."
"How flattering," Kazuha sighs, "I'm sure he'd love to hear the way you talk about him."
"Oh, he knows," Scara grumbles, "I swear he lives off teasing me."
"Somehow, I don't doubt it."
.
.
.
Kazuha can't help but find the drive relaxing in a way, even if Scara's clearly and obviously refusing to tell him anything, he still loves being near him, and seeing him bathed in the soft amber glow of the streetlights passing them by. The road shines with the rain that has already long stopped.
He's almost lulled to sleep when Scara stops the car. He's pulled up in some isolated part of the city side, near a cliff lookout. Scara swipes his pack of cigarettes from the compartment.
"Want one?"
"Did you bring me all the way here just so I'd join you for a smoke?"
"No– I… ugh." He looks him over then back outside before closing the door, walking over to Kazuha's side, and lifting him off the seat, grunting, tossing his over to sit on the hood of the car. And then taking a seat beside him as he goes to light it.
Kazuha shivers at the chilly, fresh breeze of air that blows past them, pulling the coat tighter around him. Still, Kazuha waits for whatever abandoned line of thought Scara had. Meanwhile watching as he shakes out and stretches his arms — likely from having to lift him — and breathes out the smoke.
He glances to the side, back to Kazuha, with an almost flustered annoyance. "What are you looking at me for?" he scoffs, nodding his head out, "that's what I brought you out for."
Kazuha blinks, finally ripping his eyes from the man sitting beside him on the car hood, to look up, and he felt himself gasp, rendered completely breathless at the sight.
The sky stretches endlessly above them, deeper than he'd ever remembered it being. A breathtaking mix of blues and violets that melted together into something impossible to name. Countless stars spilled across it, some shooting, gleaming, shining so bright. They weren't drowned beneath the amber light of street lights, nothing to compete with, and they thrived.
It almost felt less like looking at the sky and more like looking through it, past the sight he'd been so used to, and into something to immeasurably larger waiting beyond.
For a fleeting moment, Kazuha wonders if this is what the sky always looked like, like it was patiently waiting to be seen all along.
It was overwhelming.
His chest tightens.
How could something so beautiful stay hidden for so long?
"I go here sometimes when I need a break from everything. It's far enough from the city that there isn't much light pollution," Scara mumbles.
"First time I saw it… I didn't think it was real. Just a tapestry of lies draped over us, who were none the wiser while we went about our lives."
"And now?" he asks, gaze falling back down to Scara's face, illuminated by the night sky.
Scara shrugs, and once more he pulls another soda can from seemingly nowhere, snapping the tab off as he takes a sip.
Kazuha watches the fizzy, foamy liquid drip down his lower lip, watches as his tongue peeps out to lick it up. And suddenly Kazuha feels just as thirsty for a taste.
His eyes snap up to meet Scara's, now looking back at him with an unreadable gaze.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he says.
Kazuha blinks, then smiles.
"Are you talking about the stars?"
"Hmf, what else is there?"
"Me."
Another sip, larger this time.
"Don't be ridiculous."
Because sure, he should mean the sky, he knows. But neither of them are looking up at it right now, are they?
Kazuha giggles, then leans back, laying on his back on top of the cool steel as he gazes up.
Like looking right out into the galaxy, a sea of stars painted by Scara's hand.
Yes… Scara's. A beauty hidden behind so many layers.
"Well? Does this refresh you well enough?"
I see. Kazuha feels himself smile as warmth spread in his chest. Truly, only a sight like this could represent the breathtaking beauty of Scara's heart.
"Just how many people have you brought here before?"
"Just you.
…only ever you."
And spoken is such a tender, quiet voice. He only hardly heard it. Kazuha's heart skips a beat.
He reaches his hand over, intertwining his fingers in his. Scara flinches, but doesn't move away. Shyly looking back at him with an adorable pink dusting his cheeks, eyes glancing between their hands and Kazuha's smiling face. And not even averting his face can hide the blush on the back of his neck, peeking through the short hair. Scara tightens his hand, and Kazuha feels warmth spread to his chest. He's truly so beautiful. Angelic.
"I really want to kiss you right now," Kazuha whispers. Breathes, really. Because he's just so unbelievably taken by the man, that he can't possibly stay silent anymore.
Scara doesn't say anything, but there's a small, almost imperceptible tremble in his hand. And his head lowers as if he's closed his eyes to gather himself.
Then he hears, rather than sees, the way Scara's hand tenses around the tin can, before he tilts it all the way back, draining it completely.
And when he does turn back, it's only slightly, face mostly hidden behind those dark bangs as he mutters,
"Then why don't you?"
Kazuha pulls at his hand, tugging him forward to fall into his chest with a yelp before he catches himself, his arms caging Kazuha's head. The look on Scara's face, so red and wide eyed, eyes that sparkle like the night sky above them... He cups his face, tilting his head up to meet those soft pink lips.
Scara gasps, and it tastes so sweet. He can taste the cherry coke, the bitter smoke, and its all so strangely addicting. He can feel Scara relax, letting himself lean in, feel his eyelashes against his cheek as he closes his eyes, tilting his head to kiss him back. Pressing further and further, until he's kissing him like a starved man. As if he were trying to swallow what was left of his heart through Kazuha's lips, not realising the entire thing has already long been surrendered to him.
Kazuha's hands fall down to grab onto the collar of his jacket, keeping him close, not ever wanting to let go. And when Scara's tongue tries to coax his mouth open, he lets him in, lets him steal his breath away entirely, because he's decided that not even air could compete with how much he needs him. His mind melting away into numbness at the pleasant discovery of the small metal piercing laying on his warm tongue.
Scara shifts, climbing more comfortably over him, his knee slotted between Kazuha's legs, and Kazuha can't help but spread them wider, hoping he'd come impossibly closer still. The small noises Scara lets out are so eagerly swallowed and reverberate through his mind. And though his lungs start to burn, he still pitifully tries to chase those soft lips as Scara pulls away. He pants to catch his breath, eyes stuck on the thin glimmer of Scara's wetted lower lip, and the way the tip of his pink tongue peeks out to lick at it.
"Satisfied now?"
His voice… Gods it sounds so wrecked already.
Yes?
No.
I don't know please just kiss me again.
He can't possibly form any words anymore, so he just acts on want, slipping his hands under the hem of Scara's short jacket and his shirt, grabbing the cold skin of his thin waist and pulling him in once more. And Scara moans as their lips reconnect, wetter and needier. Kazuha's body feels warmer as their breaths mix into one, blood rushing towards both his head and his... other head. And when Scara presses his knee up between his legs, it sends sparks through his body, drawing out an embarrassing sound from his throat.
Scara pulls away, and this time, Kazuha lets him go. Scara blinks down at him, seemingly surprised, eyes flittering down as if to confirm what he felt. Kazuha bites his lip.
"Just from that?" Scara says, sounding just as breathless as Kazuha feels.
He nods. Slowly, bashful. He tries to close his legs to hide himself, but he can only do so much when Scara's hand grips his thigh. "You're... a good kisser," he mutters.
So maybe he's a bit too easy to rile up. As if anyone could resist someone as intoxicating as Scara.
Scara hesitates, gently rubbing his thumb into his thigh, before moving to hook his finger under the lower clasp of his coat and pulling ever so slightly. He looks up at Kazuha, as if almost unsure.
"May I?"
"Please."
Scara unhooks the buttons, one by one, from the bottom up. Kazuha swallows as he reaches the top, slipping his hand in and nudging it open. He takes his time feeling down his chest through the cotton shirt, eyes taking in every detail of its path, slowing just at his abdomen, just above what's now a very obvious tent in his sweatpants.
"Scara..." he practically whines, and Scara lets out an amused huff.
"Impatient, are we?" he teases as he finally lets his hand cup the eager bulge in Kazuha's sweatpants. Kazuha moans as he palms him through the fabric, stimulation running up his spine, his hand grinding into him as Scara captures his lips back into a kiss, pulling at his bottom lip as Kazuha just takes it all. His hands coming to hold onto Scara's shoulders as his lips trail down to his jaw, sucking and nibbling the skin as he goes down along his face.
Kazuha gasps when he kisses his ear, wrapping his lips around the soft lobe and pulling lightly.
"Gods..." Kazuha whimpers, trying to swallow his noises, but it's so hard when he can both feel and hear Scara's smirk.
"You know..." Scara murmurs, and his lowered voice so close to his ear makes his cock twitch in its confines, something Scara could most certainly feel. "I always wondered if you'd be sensitive here," he traces his wet tongue along the outer edge, and Kazuha shivered at the sensation of his warm breath, "nice to know I was right."
"You... hah, mean to say y–you've thought about me before?"
"And if I had?"
"If you did... then I'd say that I have too."
Scara pulls away, leaving Kazuha's ear cold against the air, with his hand moving to rest on his hip, teasing the waistband. But he can't bring himself to complain when Scara looks down at him like that. The stars behind him shine like a halo.
"How long?"
Kazuha bites his lip, "a while."
"Yeah?" his fingers snag at the elastic, pulling slightly and letting it fall back down onto his skin yet still not moving further. "And how long is a while?"
"I don't– I don't know..." Kazuha sighs, trying to shuffle his hips closer into his hand, "it crept up on me slowly..." He huffs impatiently, "Scara, please just touch me."
Scara blinks, a small "oh," falling from his lips. "You sound so cute begging for me like that."
And sure, normally, he might feel a bit embarrassed by how he's falling apart so easily — but when Kazuha feels his cock straining painfully in his pants, he's going to take full advantage of whatever branch he's offered. He takes Scara's face, pulling him in close enough for their noses the brush and looking him right in those beautiful, dilated eyes.
"Please, please, please, Scara. I need your touch, need your hands on every inch of my desperate body–" he pleads, "I crave you so badly, Scara. You'll drive me insane."
Scara swallows.
"Fuck..." Scara curses under his breath, diving in for a heated, hungry kiss as he slips his cold hand down into Kazuha's pants, wrapping around his needy cock.
Kazuha moans, letting Scara's other hand run up his chest, driving his shirt up and exposing his chest to the cool outdoor air. "Th–thank you–" he gasps.
His body arches to the touch, chasing it as Scara's hand strokes him, pleasure making his toes curl. And when he bends his knee, his leg brushes up between Scara's, Scara's groan sounding through the kiss as Kazuha feels the tightness of his pants. And in that moment all Kazuha can think about is the hard length trapped in there.
"W–wait..." Kazuha manages to push Scara off, sitting up himself and wiping the little drool from his panting mouth, now seeing the mess he's become. Scara backs up, pulling his hands away and leaving them sort of floating in the air in front of him.
"...too much?" he looks hesitant, almost nervous. Kazuha shakes his head.
"Not at all."
"Then... why–"
"You still have that lube on you, right?"
He thinks he sees Scara's breath quicken when he catches on.
"Are you sure?"
"Please fuck me, Scara."
Kazuha watches as Scara's eyes widen for a split second, before his head falls forward and a strong shiver runs up his body, a trembling breath escaping his lips. He really does like hearing him beg, doesn't he?
Scara slides off the car, Kazuha's breath catching as he grabs him by the legs and yanking him lower down the hood of the car, until their hips press together. He starts impatiently pulling off Kazuha's clothes, and Kazuha helps him. His coat layed out beneath him, leaving something between his skin and the cold metal, his tank top discarded somewhere and Kazuha still flinches when Scara pulls off his sweatpants, his cock exposed beneath Scara's hungry gaze and the cold air.
"No underwear?" he teases.
Kazuha rolls his eyes as he reaches out to strip off Scara's jacket, "you're the one who dragged me out of bed."
Scara grins, "I didn't realise you walked around the dorm like this."
"And you walk around the dorm shirtless."
He pulls the shirt over Scara's head, dishevelling his pretty dark hair. His eyes trail down his bare neck, skin illuminated by the soft moonlight as his hand rests over his lean chest.
"Hm. But you like it, don't you."
"I could never take my eyes off you."
Kazuha lets Scara push him back down on his back, his touch electric on his thighs as Scara spreads him out. He takes the small bottle from his pocket, flicking off the lid and letting it pour onto his thin fingers. Kazuha watches in anticipation as he spreads the slick, letting it warm slightly in his hand before prodding at his hole. And Scara's staring so intently, biting at his lip as his eyes flicker across his bare body.
He slips in, gently stretching him out and drawing a pleased gasp from Kazuha as he throws his head back. Scara leans down, kissing Kazuha's exposed throat as moving to suck along the side of his neck, the tip of his leaking cock brushing up against Scara's bare abdomen while their chests press into each other. Kazuha can't help but moan, feeling Scara's surprisingly gentle fingers expertly taking him apart, pulling at his threads as they caress his walls.
He feels impatient as Scara pulls out, fiddling with the front of his pants and shoving them down just enough to free his cock, coating it with the rest of the lube until it's left glistening, Kazuha's own dick twitching in interest as he lines the tip up with his desperate hole.
Scara hooks his arms under Kazuha's legs, keeping them spread and Kazuha exposed as he presses in, Kazuha choking out a lengthy moan as he feels his warm cock slowly enter him, stretching him out until he's filled completely.
"Fuck, Kazuha..." Scara's grip tightened on his thighs, giving a few experimental rolls of his hips, Kazuha feeling the deliciously maddening glide of his cock inside him, making him bite his fist as the stars spin above him. But Scara takes hold of his wrist, pulling it away from his mouth as he starts to fall into a rhythm with his thrusts.
"Don't," he says, caressing the side of his body, "I want to hear you."
"Mng– S–Scara... p–please..!" Kazuha moans as Scara fucks him deeper, hooking his quivering legs over his shoulders as he grips his waist, tilting Kazuha's hips and–
"F–fuck–!" Kazuha cries out as Scara practically folds him, dick fucking directly into his prostate, making Kazuha throw his head back and see stars. "J– ah..! just like that– r–right there..!"
"I don't think I've ever– hah– heard you curse before," Scara chuckles as he snaps his hips, picking up speed and fucking into him with reckless abandon. Kazuha could feel himself being moulded to his cock with each thrust, his own dick bouncing on his stomach, leaking with precum.
"Ah..! s–Scara I'm... please h–harder– I'm so close–!" he whimpers as pleasure runs through his body like liquid heat, his hands desperately gripping onto the coat behind him. The sound of skin and Scara's moans driving him insane as he's fucked into the hood of the car. Panting out Scara's name like a prayer, the wet slaps of their bodies so shamelessly obscene... fuck– anyone walking past could hear them right now.
Scara's grip practically bruising his waist, "s–so am I... fuck Kazuha, cum for me."
It didn't take much more for Kazuha to come all over himself, his twitching cock releasing as his body trembles with a loud moan, feeling himself tighten around Scara's cock, his tensing legs locking around Scara and keeping him close, his cockhead grinding into his prostate.
Scara's head hangs low as he groans, his cock twitching deep inside Kazuha as he comes, filling him up with his warmth. Kazuha feels weak, panting, shivering as the wind blows against his sweat–slicked skin.
Scara gently rubbing his legs, holding onto his knees as they fall from their high. Kazuha whines pathetically as Scara pulls out his softening cock. He can feel Scara's spent dripping from his well-fucked hole and almost mourns the loss.
Scara curses under his breath, catching the cum with his fingers, keeping it from making a mess below him. Kazuha watches with lidded eyes, how Scara searches their surroundings, their discarded clothes, probably for something to clean them up with. He looks so soft, beautiful, his dishevelled hair and his flushed skin, glowing under the moonlight. It makes Kazuha almost giddy, turning his head to the side and trying to cover his mouth with the back of his hand, but only barely holding back his giggles. Scara's eyes snap to him, glaring at him.
"What."
Kazuha tries to shake his head, "n–no it's... it's nothing–" though his smile feels wide enough to burn his cheeks. "I'm just really happy."
He holds his arms out to Scara invitingly. "Kiss me?" he tilts his head, "just one more for the road."
"What am I, alcohol?" he huffs, though still leans over enough to let Kazuha plant a soft kiss over his lips.
"Well–" he says, still giggling, "you certainly leave me feeling drunk."
He really does feel addicted to his taste.
"Weirdo," Scara grumbles, and Kazuha's breath hitches as Scara slips his cum-coated fingers back deep inside him.
Then a car drives by, briefly washing them both in bright light, their heads snapping to the side as they freeze like deers caught in headlights even as the car is long gone.
Kazuha bites his lip, his heart beating in his chest.
"Do you think they saw us..?"
"Most definitely."
.
.
.
"So..." Scara murmurs as he helps Kazuha put his coat back on, "what does this... mean now?"
Kazuha pauses, sees Scara's face that's clearly trying with effort to seem indifferent, and smiles.
"Depends on what you want it to mean," he hums, "although, I'm not the type to sleep with just anyone."
Scara glances up, and Kazuha is struck with just how youthful he looks with eyes like that... despite the fact he knows he's the younger one between the two.
"...Boyfriends?"
This man is actually going to kill him.
Kazuha feels his smile tugging at his cheeks. He pulls Scara forward, kissing him with everything he feels welling in his heart, because otherwise he might just bite him. He feels Scara relax and sigh, smiling into the kiss along with him, soft and short as it may be.
"Take us home, Scara," Kazuha breathes, dizzy from adoration, "I need you in me again."
Scara blinks in surprise, but then, he breaks into a chuckle that melts into a beautiful, fond laugh.
The next morning, Kazuha practically launches himself into the couch and across Scara's lap in smiles. Scara has to rush to lift his laptop out the way, but Kazuha feels too light to care.
"I'm done," he sighs, hugging tightly onto Scara's waist, "I'm free. I'm finally free."
He can feel Scara's fingers roll through his hair, can feel Scara's chest lower as he lets a long breath past his lips. "Look at you, just breezed past the last of it in a single morning, huh."
"Well I can hardly take all the credit. Not when you're the entire reason I feel so refreshed in the first place."
Scara chuckles, though his cheeks seem to pinken slightly at the reminder. He rolls his eyes, and idly pulls out another can from nowhere.
Kazuha rests his hand on top of it before Scara has the chance to pop the tab, pouting slightly as he readjusts himself to sit across his lap properly.
"No."
Scara blinks, "No?"
"It tastes horrible, Scara. I can seriously taste it on you when we kiss."
"You didn't seem to be complaining about it last night."
"I was preoccupied, my love," he sighs, picking the can from Scara's hand.
Scara frowns, huffing, turning his head away as his hands fall to Kazuha's hips. Kazuha chuckles.
"Don't tell me you're already going through withdrawals."
"It's just soda, Kazuha."
Kazuha hums, swirling the can in his hand as if considering for a moment.
"Well… I could give it back to you," he looks back to him, "If you tell me why you're so attached to them."
And for whatever reason, that only makes Scara seems even more flustered, the pink on his cheeks only more clear now as he throws his head back to the ceiling.
"Ugh. This is blackmail…" he grumbles.
"I'm just being a good boyfriend and helping you quit a bad soda addiction," he teases, trailing a soft touch along his cute face.
"Just one good reason," Kazuha presses his face lightly into the side of his jaw as he whispers encouragement, "that's all I need to hear."
Scara just turns his head away, growing more red by the minute. He mumbles something, so quiet Kazuha can't even be entirely sure he's heard it.
"…They're so I don't make a fool of myself."
"Pardon?"
"Do you even have any idea how hard you are to resist? It's just the closest thing I had to how I thought you'd taste. Had to fucking compromise with those each time I've had to hold myself back from–"
Scara lets out a shaky scoff, "–from just snapping and kissing you whenever."
Kazuha blinks, and Scara's hands tighten around his waist.
"There. Stupid. Humiliating," he turns his head to try glare at Kazuha, but it's cut by his obvious embarrassment. It looks more like a pout than anything. "That good enough blackmail for you?"
"…That's possibly the worst reason you could've had."
"You–"
But Kazuha doesn't let him finish, grabbing his jaw with his free hand and pressing their lips together in a lingering, chaste kiss.
Scara's eyes are wide and flustered when Kazuha pulls away, and he catches the way Scara swallows when Kazuha licks his lips pleased.
"See? That tastes a lot better, doesn't it?"
He can feel the way Scara's face warms in his hand. Scara grumbles, and just buries his head into Kazuha's shoulder instead.
From then on, Kazuha makes sure to interrupt him with a kiss each and every time he spots him reaching for a can, until eventually, he finally succeeds in replacing the habit entirely.