#attention and love in the same way haruka wants it. some could argue he wants a mothers love specifically too

[good-beans]

@lemonpocalypse @kyanako5972 @adipostsstuff Thank you all for your wisdom 🙏 You are all so so correct and I am THINKING now...

Hmm you should all reblog with your Fuuta thoughts... Been an annoying brain day but I wanna think about my boy... 👀🔥

[prettyiwa]

Relationship: Sakura Haruka x GN!Reader Content Tags: Post-Canon, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Realization of feelings, Switching POVs Summary: Sakura's cut his own hair for as long as he can remember, so it surprises him a little when you express interest in giving him his next haircut. Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I think there's more intimacy and trust to haircuts than a lot of people realize. Needed a break from writing Hanakotoba and this has been rotating in my mind for a bit. Obligatory @owoasis tag as my no. 1 enabler 💜

The wind blows and leaves shake loose from their trees, a lovely shower of red and gold. You watch as one leaf floats down, early in its partial transition, and lands in Sakura’s hair. Your fingers ache and impulse wins out as you reach up, catching the leaf before brushing his hair back in place, disrupted by the breeze.

“H-Hey, what’s that for?” he asks, cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink as his attention snaps to you.

Bringing your hand down, you show him the leaf, half-red, half-gold, twirling it by the stem between your thumb and forefinger. 

“You had a leaf in your hair.”

The Sakura from a couple months ago would’ve snapped at you, made some remark about how you should warn him next time or something. Instead, he sighs, eyes drifting to the left before they close, finding you when they open again. 

“You good?”

When you smile, his eyes track the movement before he turns away, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck.

“Perfect.” Continuing down the path in the park, you hear his steps behind you. Turning to look over your shoulder, you say, “Your hair’s gotten long, you know.”

His eyes flick up and his fingers come up to measure the length of his fringe before feeling the length at the nape of his neck. “Oh, is it? I guess I should trim it soon.”

“You do it yourself?”

He nearly runs into you when you stop and turn, surprised at your interest. “Y-Yeah? What’s wrong with that?” His voice hitches, turning defensive.

“Nothing! Nothing at all.” While you remain in place, he walks forward, all too eager to make it to the restaurant. “I could do it for you, if you’d like.”

That makes him pause, shoulders rising as he looks over, his ears turning pink. “Hah? No, it’s fine.”

It’s silly. You’ve done it a couple of times before and for whatever reason, learning that he cuts his own hair makes you want to be the one to cut it this time.

“Please?”

“You… want to… cut my hair?” As he asks, you can see the journey each word makes from his brain to his mouth, understanding your desire as though it were some elaborate math equation. “What’s wrong with you?”

His shoulders lower when you laugh and he rolls his eyes when you finally stop, unable to contain your glee. “Stop arguing and just tell me yes or no.”

The two of you stand there in silence for a minute or two, watching the other as another breeze blows through. After a moment longer of staring at you, he turns away, but not before you catch the blush that sits high on his cheeks. 

“F-Fine.”

Sakura shows up right on time the following Saturday morning. You walk him through to the kitchen, pulling up a dining chair on the tiled floor like you’ve done this countless times before. It makes him nervous, a little self-conscious, but you’ve never made fun of the gaps in his experiences, so he chooses to trust you. 

“How short do you want to go?” Your fingers come up, light as they card through his hair, pulling the strands between your fore and middle fingers. 

“Hm? Oh, I guess s-same as usual?” 

He isn’t expecting how serious you are about it, how your eyes assess him, measuring himself against the image you have of the past. He isn’t expecting the way you see him and don’t, the soft parting of your lips before they curve into a smile. 

“Got it. So, about here?” You draw an invisible line with your finger along his brow line where he’s been keeping it cut lately. 

“Yeah.”

“Can do. C’mere,” you say, pulling him from the chair and to your sink. 

“If you needed help with your dishes, you could’ve just asked.”

“Shut up, will you? Do you see any dishes that need washing?” He likes the sound of your laugh. You turn on the sink, setting the water to something just above lukewarm. “Wet hair’s easier to cut.”

Draping a towel over his shoulders, you have him wet his hair in the sink, your hands careful where they land, making sure it’s reached everything. 

“Really? I don’t notice a difference.” Water drips from his hair, landing on the towel, trailing down the contours of his face. You huff a laugh, using another towel to pat the excess wetness before combing through his hair.

“Maybe it’s good enough for you, but I wanna do this right.”

“I don’t get it, but whatever. My hair’s still my hair.”

He sits in your chair and listens to your footsteps, listens to the gentle metallic snip-snip-snip of the scissors as you open and close them, nowhere near him. No one’s handled his hair since he was a kid. By the time he came to Furin, he got used to doing it himself, not trusting anyone with his appearance. By the time he met you, he’d been doing it for so long he didn’t see any reason in wasting money to pay someone else. What little hesitation he feels evaporates when you walk in front of him, when you appraise him with careful eyes, wanting to do what he asks of you.

It’s painless, even in the prolonged silence. 

Your fingers are gentle as they guide his head, your voice soothing as you ask him to keep still, to bring his chin down, to keep his head straight. You cradle his face, moving his head when it starts to tilt when he grows relaxed, the cool press of the scissor handles on his cheek as you do. He doesn’t even notice it happening but you smile each time it does. When you start on his fringe, you’re quick to brush away loose hairs, keeping him clean. 

(It almost starts to feel like something else).

Every now and then you meet his eyes and you soften, seriousness melting away for something that looks dangerously close to fondness. In normal circumstances, he’s pretty sure he’d blush and try to escape, but he’s steady now, unable to look away. If you ask, he’ll blame it on the scissors in your hand.

(You don’t ask).

It’s over all too quickly, the soft padding of your slippers against the floor coming on the heels of your command to stay put. His skin burns where you last touched him, sharp in contrast to the cool air on the back of his neck, caused by damp hair. You sweep the hair from the ground all around him before asking him to stand, hands quick as they brush off any loose hairs from his clothes, stealing the towel from around his shoulders before you move around him. 

“You’re just about all done. I can blow dry your hair, if you’d like.”

“Uh, s-sure. You’re the one callin’ the shots, right?”

The smile you give him is blinding, happy with his trust in you and something flutters in his chest. It gets hard to not wanna go along with what you have planned when you look at him like that. He follows you to the bathroom, letting you fuss over him a bit longer. Even as the small space fills with the loud sound and hot air, even as you blow his hair every which way, all he can see is the reflection of you by his side in the mirror.

Everything ceases and you smile at him, not even glancing in the mirror, and you ask, “Well? Do you like it?”

Your hand comes up like it did earlier in the week, brushing his hair with your fingers, a satisfied grin sitting on your lips. 

“It looks the same.”

“Yeah, whatever.” That smile is replaced by a playful pout as you nudge his shoulder, turning to your reflections.

“I… guess… it wouldn’t be so bad if you cut my hair from now on.”

“You can’t just say that you liked it, can you?” You look at him again, that smile from earlier appearing, the one that’s soft like you can’t help yourself, the one that turns the tips of his ears warm. “Just tell me when, Sakura.”

As you leave him alone in your bathroom, patting his shoulders as you go, he realizes that if he didn’t know for certain how he felt about you before, he sure does now.

(bonus) | Hanakotoba masterlist | wbk masterlist

[paintedmegolden93]

gorgeous

So I very recently got into Sailor Moon and I’ve had this bouncing around my head for the past week or so. Anyways, please be kind if you think it’s alright. Or not. I mean, it’s really up to you.

*

She was sure she would never attend one of Haruka’s parties ever again. While she hadn’t expected anything less from her older, well-traveled friend, Usagi was quickly becoming overwhelmed. It was impossible to escape the throngs of writhing bodies that crushed into the walls of the spacious condo. She had long since lost her friends that she came with in the crowd and she was sure she wouldn’t see them again until they found her to let her know to go home without them. “Kitten!” Haruka called over the din.  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I’ve been meaning to give you this.” She pushed a cup into Usagi’s hand. Usagi shook her head. “No Haruka I’m okay really. But thank you.” Haruka let out an exasperated sigh and threw her arm over the smaller girl’s shoulders. “Yeah yeah I get it. But Demande isn’t here, so you can have fun, right?” Usagi flushed. So maybe her kind of boyfriend wasn’t here because he said he had some invite to a club that was better than Haruka’s party. But she knew it was really because he was easily intimidated by anyone with even a little status, and Haruka was a famous racer after all. “So I’m going to make you have fun tonight, introduce you to everyone,” she continued. “But first you’re going to have to drink that. Also probably drink another. No offense, but you seem tense.” Usagi gulped the drink in her cup, wincing only a little from the burn. Haruka smiled to herself as she fixed another drink. This whole party may or may not have been an elaborate plan she and Michiru put together to get Usagi away from that asshole who never let her get a moment’s peace. Now, she just had to wait for her better half to come through with her part. She glanced over to the kitchen and saw Michiru beckon her over. There it was. “Alright, come on, we got people to meet,” Haruka said as she dragged Usagi alongside her. She noted that the smaller girl wobbled a bit, and briefly wondered if she had given her a little too much. They weaved through the crowd before finding the teal-haired girl and her friend chatting in a small group. The first thing that Usagi noticed was just how gorgeous he was. His black hair was effortlessly messy, just shy of falling into his ocean eyes. She felt confident that she would drown in them if she stared for too long. They he looked at her as he sipped his whiskey on ice made her feel as if she was on fire from within, which she attempted to dowse with another long sip from her drink. Michiru introduces him as Mamoru Chiba, currently completing his medical residency at Keio University Hospital. Still, Usagi was at a loss for words, an uncommon phenomenon for her. There was just nothing that she could say to him. She talked to everyone else that was in the kitchen with them, but was careful not to say anything to him. She could feel his eyes on her every so often, as if they left a trace on her skin. When she was sure he wasn’t looking, she would glance over at him, still leaning against a counter and talking to a blonde man about his age, and for a moment she hated how cool and put together he was. Still, there was something about they way he talked that seemed off to her. “That’s it!” she blurted, mostly unaware that she was speaking out loud. “Do you realize that you speak in haiku? Like, not all the time but enough that you can notice it if you’re paying attention?” His eyes slid to her, a sly smile on his lips. “And that’s enough of that, Kitten,” Haruka said as she swooped in and plucked the mostly empty cup from Usagi’s hand. She turned to Mamoru. “Sorry, she sometimes forgets that it’s not nice to insult people.” “I wasn’t insulting him!” Usagi shrieked as she tried to grab the cup back from her friend. “He should take it as a compliment.” Mamoru smiled down at her, and she was struck with sudden anger. She had only just met this guy, and she was flustered. She was furious. He had no right to make her feel like this, as if somehow the world hinged on them being together. It wasn’t fair that any one person could be so perfect. “Sure, I’ll take the compliment, bun-head.” He took a short sip of his drink but kept his eyes on her to gauge her reaction. Usagi balled her hands into fists. “I have a name you know,” she grumbled. She got enough teasing from her friends, so she certainly didn’t need any from this stranger, no matter how gorgeous he was. “Oh I’m sure, but you haven’t introduced yourself or said anything beyond commenting on how I talk.” “Well you could have asked!” Michiru and Haruka backed away from the bickering pair, as did everyone else. “Listen, I love you, but when I said you should pick out something for our kitten there, did you have to pick the biggest asshole you know?” Michiru dropped her head to Haruka’s shoulder. “Mamoru-kun is not an asshole.” Haruka rolled her eyes. “Okay, he’s not that much of an asshole. I just thought they would balance each other out nicely.” The pair continued to argue, their volume escalating, and Haruka knew this would end terribly if she didn’t do something. The expensive sound system continued to pump music throughout the space, and an idea came to her. “Listen, I say that the two of you can apologize to each other with a dance. You’ve been standing in this same spot arguing and I’ll feel like a bad host if neither of you have fun.” Michiru nodded in agreement. At the sound of Haruka’s voice, Mamoru and Usagi jumped apart. Maybe it was the nature of the argument or how loud the party was, but they had somehow ended up a breath apart, and his face was bent towards hers. To anyone who hadn’t heard them, they would have looked the picture of intimacy. She looked up at him. At this distance, he was even more striking. She wanted to trace his cheeks gently with the pads of her fingertips, but longed to tangle her hands in the thick hair at the nape of his neck. The way he studied her put her on edge and made her skin smolder. Finally, he shrugged and took her by the hand to lead her into the dancing crowd. In the crowd, it was impossible not to press against him as they danced. He was a good dancer, so Usagi didn’t find it at all unpleasant. He kept a firm grip on her waist, his fingers barely brushing at the exposed skin of her back. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was teasing her. He should know better than to help her imagine what his hands would feel like gripping and touching her in a dark room. She looked back towards the kitchen. A girl she hadn’t noticed before kept her arms crossed and glared at her. His girlfriend, she thought. Of course he would have a girlfriend. “Are you sure your girlfriend won’t be mad at you for dancing like this?” Mamoru cocked his head. She tossed her head towards the kitchen. If she had paid more attention, she wouldn’t have missed Haruka and Michiru cackling and giving each other high fives. “What are you talking about?” Usagi rolled her eyes. Now wasn’t the time for him to play dumb with her. “No I mean I really can’t hear you over this,” he added, cupping his hand around his ear. Emboldened by the music or the alcohol, she twined her hands into his hair to pull him closer. God, it was just as soft as she thought it would be. “I’m just surprised your girlfriend over there hasn’t cut in,” she said, accidentally brushing her lips against the shell of his ear. His movements suddenly became less fluid, and she took pleasure from feeling the stutter. It was almost like she had the same effect he had on her. He followed his gaze, and for the first time that night noticed Mari. Instead of her usual smile, she glowered. Strange. Usagi braced herself for him to pull away. She had been such an idiot, pointing that girl out. But not having him didn’t hurt as much if she knew he had a girlfriend. She realized with a start that she could feel him shaking his head. She hadn’t removed her hands, just slid them down his neck. He smiled before bending until he rested his face in the crook of her shoulder. “Not my girlfriend,” he whispered against her neck. She shuddered and bit back a groan. This was worse. It wasn’t fair that he was single. Another party-goer knocked into her back, pushing her somehow further into him, and now all she could feel was the hard length of his body and his arms around her. Staring up at him, his blue eyes dark and his cheeks tinged pink from the whiskey, she knew she had to leave before she did anything dangerous. “I should probably go. My cats will wonder what happened to me,” she said lamely. As she tried to pull away, he pulled her back, burying his hands in her hair and tilting her head up until she had no choice but to look at him. He leaned in until they were nose to nose. “Alone?” he whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. She gulped and nodded before meeting his steady gaze again. “Unless you want to come along.” She hoped she sounded braver than she felt. At that moment, he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, the pressure close to bruising. “Let’s go.”

[datheetjoella]

Drabble Prompt! Haru trying on Makoto's glasses... and Makoto loving it! <3

"Hey," Haruka called as he walked into Makoto's room, only to find him sitting on the floor with his nose in his books, "You're still studying?"

"Hey," Makoto greeted back and he tilted his head back to accept Haruka's chaste kiss. "Yeah, I want to get this chapter done today."

When Haruka looked over to the open book and recognised the page, a frown settled on his face. "You already studied this chapter."

"I know, but there's nothing wrong with a little extra revising."

Except there was. These past couple of weeks Makoto had done nothing but study every living moment he had the opportunity to in preparation for the entrance exams. Haruka knew that Makoto was extremely nervous and afraid to fail, especially since he had told him that he was going to Tokyo too. Before that he was motivated and dedicated as well, but it was even worse now he knew Haruka had accepted a swimming scholarship and would definitely be going to Tokyo so failure was not an option and he just had to be accepted into his university of choice and he couldn't do that if he didn't do well on his entrance exams.

Haruka understood that he was worried, but he honestly didn't need to be. If there was anyone who was well-prepared, it was Makoto and it was great that he was doing his best, but at this point he was basically just overworking himself. He spent hours in the library after school and apparently he just continued when he came home. Knowing Makoto, if this continued then he would be exhausted in no time and still wouldn't stop, and that way he wouldn't even absorb the information he was so obsessively studying, it would only cause him to forget more from fatigue.

"You already studied for hours, Makoto. Take a break."

"I will. I'll just finish this chapter first, alright?" Makoto said before he turned back to his textbook and notes, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Then, Haruka was struck with an idea. If he couldn't persuade Makoto to stop by talking to him, then he just had to forcefully make him stop. In one swift movement Haruka plucked Makoto's glasses off his face and put them on himself before he climbed on top of Makoto's bed.

"Haru," Makoto whined, "Give them back."

"No."

"At least let me finish this page."

"Nope," Haruka refused and he lied down on his back.

"Haru," Makoto sighed deeply as he crawled on his bed as well and hovered over Haruka, who raised his hands towards his face and protectively held the glasses so Makoto wouldn't be able to take them off. If he really wanted to, Makoto could take them away by force but Haruka knew that Makoto would never risk hurting him.

"There are two ways you can get them back," Haruka teased and he raised one finger. "One, you cuddle with me for two hours." He added his middle finger. "Or two, you give me a thousand kisses."

When Makoto was spending so many hours studying, there wasn't much of the day left for them to spend some quality time together. It couldn't be helped since it was important for his future, but Haruka missed his affection. It was selfish because Haruka didn't have to worry about his exams like Makoto did because of his scholarship, but he couldn't help that he felt the way he did. He knew Makoto loved him and that would never change regardless of how busy he was, but he just craved his touch and his kisses and he just wanted to feel his arms around him, holding him tight. That wasn't that odd, was it?

"A thousand?" Makoto asked sceptically.

"A thousand," Haruka confirmed, not breaking his serious tone and keeping his stoic face.

A fond smile stretched Makoto's lips that told him that he understood what Haruka was trying to do. He softly stroked Haruka's cheek with his thumb in a way that told Haruka that he missed him too. But then his smile turned into a smirk and Haruka could see a mischievous little glint in his gorgeous eyes.

"I pick number three," Makoto said with a nod, trying to sound solemn but he had a hard time suppressing his smile.

"Number three?"

Makoto nodded before he elaborated, "Both." There wasn't much time for Haruka to process his words before he continued, "I'll start with the kisses, alright? One." He pressed a quick kiss to Haruka's lips, "Two." And another kiss to his cheek, "Three." and one to his nose, "Four." and another one to his forehead.

"Makoto!" Haruka giggled in protest to the ticklish sensation of Makoto's lips dropping rapid and light kisses onto his skin.

The sound of Haruka's beautiful laughter only spurred him on and he kept counting as he kissed every part of Haruka's face. "Twenty-four." Kiss. "Twenty-five." Kiss. "Twenty-six." Kiss.

"Makoto!"

"Oh," Makoto mumbled as he pulled away, "I've lost count. Now I have to start over, I guess." He shrugged before he leaned down again and continued giving him kisses, "One."

Although he couldn't stop giggling nor catch his breath, Haruka couldn't deny that he was really enjoying the attention Makoto was showering him in. At least, that was what he thought; he immediately changed his mind when in addition to his kisses Makoto started to tickle him as well. His soft giggles turned into loud laughter and he did his best to swat Makoto's arms away from his sides. "Makoto, stop!"

It appeared to be his lucky day because Makoto did as he had been told and he pulled away again to let him catch his breath, and he chuckled softly before he caressed Haruka's face again in apology to his playfulness.

Haruka opened his eyes and he looked up at Makoto's blurry image and he was vaguely able to make out his smile before Makoto leaned down again and gently kissed him and automatically Haruka's eyes fell shut as he kissed back. The kiss was tender and deep, one like they shared countless times before but it still filled Haruka with happiness and it made his belly tingle with love and adoration. In that sense it was like every kiss was their first, for they were always meaningful and special in their own way and Haruka had missed the feeling of Makoto's soft lips kissing him like this. He wrapped his arms around Makoto's neck and threaded his fingers through his hair and Makoto hummed in delight.

Eventually their kiss ended and they shared some shorter ones instead. Then Makoto nuzzled their noses together and he sighed, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Haruka murmured back, "more than anything."

Makoto couldn't stop himself from pressing another kiss to Haruka's mouth. "You're so beautiful, Haru," Makoto complimented as he ran his thumb over his wet lips, "You look really good in glasses."

"So if I wasn't wearing your glasses then I wouldn't be beautiful?" Haruka teasingly asked, trying to sound serious but it wasn't really working.

"You are always beautiful, Haru. Always," Makoto said earnestly despite knowing that Haruka was just joking. "It's just… the glasses really fit you."

It wasn't like Haruka didn't understand Makoto's sudden captivation because this was the first time he had ever worn his glasses in front of him. He clearly remembered the first time he saw Makoto wearing glasses and looking back on it, he knew he had fallen in love with him all over again at that moment. And even now his heart still jumped inside his chest whenever he saw Makoto in his glasses; it wasn't so much that he looked better with them than without them, it was just different, a different type of handsome and Haruka always allowed himself to enjoy both wonderful sights. So he could very well imagine that Makoto was feeling the same way right now.

"I would tell you that you're beautiful too," Haruka stated, "but I can't really see anything right now."

Makoto chuckled at that. "Well, you already know what I look like anyway. But really, you should see yourself right now."

"That's kind of impossible considering that I can't see anything clearly while wearing them."

"Of course it's not," Makoto argued and he pushed himself up so he was sitting on his knees and he reached out to grab his phone from the table. He slid it open and fumbled with the buttons before he pointed it at Haruka's face.

To humour him, Haruka smiled softly as Makoto took a picture of his bespectacled face.

"Here," Makoto offered and he showed Haruka the screen of his phone.

Haruka tipped the glasses up so they were resting on his forehead and he blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust to being able to see properly again before he looked at the photo. "Ah," was all that he said, not knowing what else to say. Then he reached out to take Makoto's phone and Makoto gave it to him without much thought.

"What are you doing?" he asked not out of worry, but with genuine curiosity.

"Deleting the photo."

"What? No! Haru," Makoto objected and he tried to take the phone back from him but Haruka held it out of his reach, slipping the glasses back onto his nose. "Please don't delete it, it's cute!" Makoto pleaded as he made another attempt at grabbing his phone. If he really wanted to, then Makoto would easily be able to take the phone back but once again, Haruka knew that he would never use physical strength against him. "I promise I won't show anyone!"

For a moment Haruka paused to contemplate his decision. Personally, he really loved seeing Makoto in his glasses and he was lucky to witness it quite often, especially lately when he was studying so much. But he never wore glasses himself so Makoto was never able to enjoy the sight except for this rare occasion. The thought of never seeing Makoto in his glasses again was a little disappointing to Haruka and while that would never happen, the chances of Makoto seeing him in glasses again were much, much lower. The least he could do was let him have that one picture.

"Fine," Haruka sighed as he stopped resisting, allowing Makoto to take the phone out of his hands.

"Yes," Makoto cheered in triumph, "Thank you, Haru-chan." To express his gratitude even further, he bent down to kiss him again.

"Drop," Haruka mumbled in-between kisses, "the '-chan'."

"Sorry, sorry!"

The way Makoto giggled softly told Haruka that he hadn't really meant it, though that didn't matter to him. He had missed these playful, carefree moments and it wouldn't be complete without Makoto calling him '-chan'.

"Seriously though, they do look really good on you."

Makoto had said this so many times already and that proved just how much he truly enjoyed the look on him; the way they framed his beautiful blue eyes brought even more attention to them than usually and Makoto felt like he could get lost in them forever.

"You look really good with them too," Haruka genuinely thought, "Too bad I have perfect eyesight."

"Honestly, I'm glad that you have perfect sight," Makoto muttered, "Even if they do look really good on you."

"Might have to look into some fake ones, then," Haruka joked and Makoto laughed lightly before fondly shaking his head.

"Anyway, regardless of how much I love them on you, I think it would be better if you took them off now. Otherwise they might give you a headache or actually ruin your perfect sight."

With a nod of agreement Haruka raised his hands to his face to take them off, but then he suddenly remembered why he was wearing them in the first place. Sceptically he looked up at Makoto and even though he couldn't clearly see his eyes, Makoto still understood what he was thinking.

"I'm taking a break," he assured, "I promised, right?"

"Yeah," Haruka said and he took the glasses off and gave them back to Makoto. Despite his dedication to his studying, Haruka knew Makoto would never consciously break a promise and he trusted him more than anyone. Like he had expected, Makoto bent the temples and put the glasses back on the table.

"Sorry I've been studying so much lately," he suddenly mumbled, sincerely sounding apologetic this time.

"It's alright, I understand."

"It's just…" he continued, "The university will receive so many applicants from all over the country and I just don't want to fail, so I have to make myself stand out from the crowd somehow. Unlike many other students, I'm really average and therefore I have to work even harder to even get the chance to get accepted. If I don't do well on these exams-"

"Makoto," Haruka interrupted and he cupped his face with his hands so he had to look at him, "You're wrong; you are anything but average. You're smart and dedicated and determined and if there's anyone who's going to do well on these tests, it's you. Because you're working harder than most others and you have the intellect for it so there's no way you're going to fail. There's only one thing you lack and that's confidence. Have a little more faith in yourself because you're amazing and if there's anyone who can accomplish their dreams, it's you."

The heartfelt and honest words had startled Makoto a little and he looked surprised for a second before he smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Haru. I just can't help but be worried about it."

"It's okay to be worried," Haruka said and he softly rubbed Makoto's jaw, "It's only natural that you worry about your education and future and there's nothing wrong with that, per se. You just need to take a break sometimes, because it isn't like studying every minute of every day will help you out. You deserve to relax."

"You're right, it's just a little hard sometimes," Makoto admitted.

"I know, that's why I'll be here to steal your glasses when necessary."

"Thank you, Haru," Makoto repeated before his gentle smile stretched even further. "Speaking of which, I think I still owe you two hours of cuddling and approximately 950 kisses."

Haruka snorted and he opened his arms in a silent invitation and Makoto didn't need to be asked twice. Their lips met in another loving kiss as their bodies found each other and held the other close. Makoto turned them so they were lying on their sides so that he wouldn't accidentally hurt Haruka with his weight. He ran his hand slowly over Haruka's back as their tongues entwined. There was no rush in the kiss, it was simply a mutual desire to feel each other without any other motive.

When their lips finally parted again after sharing numerous slow and tender kisses, Haruka buried his face in Makoto's neck and Makoto pulled him even closer against himself, nuzzling his hair before pressing a kiss against his black locks.

There would be many instances in the future that would require their worry and concern, but for now they felt nothing but the warmth, comfort, and safety of the other's embrace.

Thank you @binyeum for sending the prompt and I hope you liked it! ^^

I really enjoyed writing this prompt because I love Makoto wearing his glasses and Haru trying them on is just A++, although it turned into Haru stealing them more.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have a wondeful day!