Haru is humming when Daisuke arrives at their shared apartment.
Context: Daisuke was able to convince Haru to move out and share with him since they've practically been living together anyways, with the new Kambe estate more Suzue's than his, and Haru's old unit (and don't get Daisuke wrong here, he loved that tiny apartment), was evidently bought for a singular human being, a cacti and maybe a pet, if Haru's apartment had allowed pets, and they just had to move out when it was becoming clear how frequent Daisuke had been sharing his space.
Anyways, that was then, they're here now, and Haru is in the kitchen, hips minutely swaying to the beat of whatever tune is running in his head and playing on his lips while he taps on the countertop, waiting for the kettle to boil.
Daisuke walks behind him and wraps his arms around the unassuming man, who startles only slightly, before sinking into Daisuke's embrace. The arms wrap tighter around Haru in response.
"I didn't hear you come in." Haru says, turning his head to land a kiss on whichever part of Daisuke's head meets his lips (it was the area above his temple), before adding softly, "Welcome home."
"Hmmm." Daisuke hums –purrs, more like, as he nuzzles his nose in the crevice of Haru's neck and shoulder, the skin a bloom of rose, the shade of it fading into the neckline of Haru's shirt and further down his chest, which Daisuke can't see but knows is there.
"I’m home. What were you humming?" Daisuke asks, after several moments of quietly and contently planting chaste kisses on the expanse of skin available and peeking at his disposal.
"Ah? Oh that, some pop song that played when I was showering. I have no idea what it means but it's pretty catchy."
Daisuke snorts, his arms loosening to lay his hands on Haru's hips when the kettle starts to whistle, giving him just enough leeway to move that Daisuke needn't detach himself, and murmurs, "Practice, Haru. You need to be consistent with your English, we're only here a month before we fly off again."
Context: The adollium chaos. Yes, they're back in Japan. No, not permanently. The duo had been allowed a month long break when the adollium cases' rates had lowered enough to allow them one, but the most they have is that one month, and even then they'll be pouring over previous notes for any leads and occasionally helping out with the MCPTF if their time allowed them to.
Now, back to the present.
Haru, who has been subjected to Daisuke's many names of affection for him, only flushes a minimal amount. “My English is enough to get me by! Not everyone got to grow up while learning another language.” Grousing, he turns off their stove as he pours the hot water into the pre-readied mug of coffee.
"And I am consistent.” Haru adds defensively, though there’s no heat in his words, while he swirls his teaspoon to mix his coffee before raising it to his lips and blowing the steam off.
“Hnnnm.” says Daisuke. He huffs his amusement then, letting Haru drink a sip before he says, "Give me at least a line of that song then."
Side-eyeing the shorter man, Haru blows a breath of air into the mug and takes a gulpfull before setting it down, tapping the counter as he hums again to jog his memory in lieu of an answer.
Daisuke is content with letting him think, and continues to pepper kisses up to Haru's jaw until the man snaps his fingers. He nips a little at the area below Haru’s ear before he rests his chin on his shoulder, listening.
"There's this part that repeats –probably the chorus– and it goes like, and don't laugh at my accent okay?" Haru slaps a still suited bicep, and only continues when Daisuke grunts his assent.
"I won't." Daisuke assures, before saying in his very British English, "What was the line, love?"
Haru is muttering unintelligently, tapping a rhythm on the rim of his mug, before he exclaims, "Oh right! It goes like, hm– oh, I’ve been drinking coffee, and I’ve been eating healthy–” He hums, a lower register lacing his voice and getting off-track when he forgets the next lines, but still keeping the melody, “–can you stay up all night, fuck me 'till the daylight– hmm– ah, I think?”
Where he trails off, Haru murmurs to himself offhandedly. He picks his mug back up a second later, unaware of how the man behind him had frozen on his spot.
“Anyways, you get what I mean right?”
Do you get what you mean??? Daisuke thinks, a little hysterically.
Haru continues, not waiting for an answer and unaware of Daisuke’s dilemma. “The song is pretty high, and I couldn’t really understand what she was saying the first time –oh, and yeah, the singer’s a female, Ariana Grande, if I’m remembering it right. Anyways. The video had lyrics though, so I got it after a few times around and I didn’t even have to pause to catch up! Improvement, right? Heh.”
Right. Daisuke had to double –no, triple-take, rinse, repeat, and register the mere few lines that had just come out of his lover's mouth. Surely, he at least knew what fuck meant, right?? Haru wasn’t shy when it came to these sorts of things, no, but he wasn’t one that often initiated. Or even said anything remotely close to what he just did outside the activity itself.
And his accent. Sure, yeah, Daisuke teases Haru a significant amount for it, but his accent has improved a lot ever since their first adollium case, and Daisuke can testify that although it's still Japanese-scented, it's better and understandable and clear. And Haru has that thing where when he speaks in a language that isn’t his native tongue, it gets deeper. And boy. Oh boy.
“Can you,” Daisuke clears his throat, before continuing in English, “Can you repeat that last line?”
“Fuck me ‘till the daylight?” Haru repeats –and oh god, Daisuke almost whimpers out loud–, very innocently, taking another sip, “Hm,” then, as if to fuck (ha) with Daisuke, he says it again, like he’s tasting the feel of it, “Fuck me ‘till the daylight..”
Haru continues to muse, expression hidden with their current position (ha), and leans more of his weight onto Daisuke in what would be considered sweet and innocent, if what he said were of any innocence, it just seems like Haru is tempting Daisuke right now–
Wait, was he? Did Haru search up what the lyrics meant? Was Daisuke being played with??
Daisuke swallows dryly, fingers unconsciously digging into the dip of the other man’s hip bones, who appeared to be nescient of both this and what he was doing to the man.
“Oh, you said practice with my English right?” Haru recalls, not mentioning how Daisuke has stepped even closer behind him and the clutch on his sides are firmer in their hold, “I think I can remember one of the verses.” He says nonchalantly, turning in Daisuke’s hold so that they’re facing each other and steadily holds his mug in between them, resting his lower back against the countertop.
Daisuke is very not sure if he wants to hear the rest of the song. Especially like this.
“Alright,” is what comes out instead. And because he apparently wishes for an early death, “Speak English from now on, then.”
Haru beams, too concealed to hint at Daisuke if he knew what he was doing but too carefree to be anything but guiltless. Daisuke is not sure what to expect, but he knows where he wants this to end up, if the rest of what leaves Haru’s lips align with what he has in mind.
“Mm,” Haru agrees, and then, “So what you doing tonight?”
Hookay. Alright, okay. Daisuke, calm down. It’s literally the first line.
You see, Haru’s voice is soft, deep, yet tuneful. If he so wanted it to be sensual, it would very well work. And it’s working, alright. Currently, right now, on one (1) Kambe Daisuke. The man can sing too, like his creator said you will be perfect and highly detrimental: you will be tall and pretty and a siren on legs in one whole, ribboned package. A blessing and a curse to any poor young unsuspecting mortal.
In which, in this situation, is Daisuke. And may the lords grant him the wish of staying as the mortal, because wow. One line in yet it’s all simultaneously hook, line, and sinker.
Simp, a young woman’s distant voice teases.
Haru’s tapping the side of the mug while he half sings, half says the lyrics, “Better say ‘doin’ you right‘–” Haru hums, and Daisuke’s hands move from the taller man to the edge of the countertop, pressing his way into Haru’s personal bubble.
“Watchin’ movies, but we ain’t seen a thing tonight, yeah.” Haru’s lips twitch.
“You know what they mean, don’t you?” Daisuke breaths, face moving closer until he catches Haru’s grinning lips, kissing him languidly while he takes the half-empty mug and putting it a safe distance away.
Haru breaks the kiss, murmuring against Daisuke’s lips, “English, ‘suke,”
“I gotta continue,” Haru huffs, the tease in his voice giving away his intentions, “Let me sing.”
“I think I want you singing a different song, love.” Daisuke nearly growls, biting at Haru's throat, which rumbles with the startled laughter that leaves it, deep and melodic and making Daisuke’s skin tingle.
“I don’t want to keep you up,” Haru continues to sing, completely ignoring his boyfriend, “But show me, can you keep it up?” There’s an obvious smile radiating off of him, and Daisuke can only groan into the column of Haru’s neck.
“You are insufferable.” Daisuke whispers, revelling in the visible bob of Haru’s adam’s apple.
Haru moans lightly when Daisuke starts to suck at his skin, hands raising to grip at his suit jacket, tugging at it. Daisuke complies, deftly taking his arms out where Haru helps him and flings it somewhere behind him. It lands near the mug.
“Daisuke, not in my kitchen.” Haru grunts, but tilts his head to give Daisuke more access to his skin anyway. A leg nudges itself between Haru’s knees, and they part without much resistance, rewarding him with an appreciative hum and more nipping, much to Haru’s inwardly, more reasonable side’s dismay.
Daisuke’s hands are sliding down his sides, and Haru’s own darts down when they reach the top of his thighs, where they meet his ass.
“Not here.” Haru whispers on his lips. Daisuke rolls his eyes, before bending down and lifting Haru up with an arm behind his knees and the other behind his back.
“Fuck, you can’t just do that without warning me!” Haru yelps, arms flailing to lo loop behind Daisuke’s nape and giving a half-hearted glare. Daisuke placates him with a peck to the forehead.
Dusk was spilling through their living room window, and through the sheer gray curtains, creating streaks of shadows across inside it. The short trek to their bedroom carries a promise of a long night.
Haru sighs in content, finally giving into his swift change of balance. Then the teasing grin is back on his face.
“So, Dai,” Haru says, elongating the vowels and smirking into Daisuke’s chest when the arms pull him tighter, a pair of aurate pools glimmering and cobalt darkening, lightning and flashing within the dimmed apartment, “Will you fuck me ‘till the daylight? ”
The apartment doesn’t meet light until sunrise.