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kiserusmoke · 7 years

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Coming Home

Summary: When their lips meet, it is more out of comfort than one of desire. Their kiss is like coming home, their lips melting together as if they were made to meet like they are now.

Author Notes: Shuichi and Hikaru catch up on the years lost over dinner and too much wine. Fluffiness ensues. AKA that Shuichi/Hikaru fic I’ve teased for a month now finally sees the light of day. AO3 Link

Hikaru remembers a time when the two of them would play in the garden of Shuichi’s family estate. It was unheard of for the child of a successful politician to befriend a servant's son, but this societal norm never phased the raven-haired boy. For hours, the two of them would play catch and hide-and-seek despite the judgemental gaze of the estate maids and caretakers. Shuichi never seemed to mind, and he never treated Hikaru any differently. Shuichi spoke to Hikaru as he would any other person, never simplifying his language or letting even the slightest hint of pity taint his words. For that, Hikaru was forever thankful.

This gratitude only solidified when Shuichi stood with him in the hall outside of his parents’ hospital room, when Hikaru could barely make out his best friend behind the hot veil of tears. The weight of Shuichi’s arm around his shoulders felt like the only anchor keeping Hikaru tethered to this world when the two people he loved most have already decided to leave him behind.

Shuichi remembers a time when his world came to a grinding halt at the news of his father’s political scandal, and how Hikaru was right there beside him. As the Earth seemed to slip out from beneath Shuichi’s feet, the sound of Hikaru’s concerned voice kept him from getting lost in the undertow. He had no reason to stay, his parent’s dues long since paid off and the metaphorical ties binding Hikaru to Shuichi’s family long since gone, but still he stayed. Shuichi couldn't help but feel grateful at this notion, and it made the dull ache of being forced into a role far beyond his years slightly more bearable.

The night that the two of them decided the path of their future, Shuichi couldn't help but feel impressed at the person standing before him. Hikaru had become quite the force to be reckoned with, and his maturity was undeniable. Even when he went somewhere where Shuichi could only imagine the horrors, Hikaru always returned to the estate with the same lopsided smirk and a laugh that sounded a little too loud for any given situation. Shuichi was glad that this part of him remained unscathed despite the unthinkable sights Hikaru was likely faced with through his missions. It's easy to appreciate the small things when your best friend is a hitman-for-hire, Shuichi finds himself thinking.

The weeks after that are a frenzied haze, with far too many official business calls and packed bags for an escape for a midnight mission. Shuichi and Hikaru find themselves nearly overwhelmed at how quickly their paths are changing, and the notion that they'll soon be separated to live their vastly different lives. The two of them steal time away in the middle of the night to take shelter in the office of Shuichi’s father. The room that was bustling with energy weeks ago that now lay barren, and Shuichi couldn't help but feel it was perfect place to spend time with the person he wanted to see most, the best friend he would soon only have a memory of.

Nights are reserved for sharing memories and reminiscing on a more innocent time in their lives. It isn't until one of the lulls in the conversation that Shuichi looks over at Hikaru and is overwhelmed by a sensation he has felt only a handful of times before. With a single swift movement, Shuichi finds his hand weaving through auburn locks and taking in Hikaru’s shocked expression with one of amusement. Hikaru doesn't resist when the dark-haired boy pulls him closer, and soon he finds himself gripping Shuichi’s arm with resolve. When their lips meet, it is more out of comfort than one of desire. Their kiss is like coming home, their lips melting together as if they were made to meet like they are now.

Years have passed now, the two of them having their own share of tragedy and heartbreak, of laughter and moments of pure bliss. Moments such of these would be even more special had they shared them together, but the harsh reality was that Shuichi had not seen Hikaru in years. Being the Ambassador of Japan meant moving around constantly, the life of a servant to the country. He was now in London, the Embassy seeming all the more empty with its single occupant only spending as much time as absolutely necessary there. It didn't feel much like a home without the familiar redhead that never cleaned up after himself and took up as much space as he could on the couch. Shuichi had grown accustom to this life, but he couldn't help but yearn for something more.

The call came out of seemingly nowhere, an excited voice telling him he had time to spare between jobs. Shuichi found himself looking forward to the dinner between the two of them that evening, and he wasn't the only one. He opened the door that night to find Hikaru bouncing nervously on the back of his heels, a familiar bottle of wine in hand. Shuichi welcomes him in and soon the pair are laughing over filet mignon and refilling their glasses with the rich merlot between them. In a lull in the conversation, Hikaru cannot help but notice how tired Shuichi looks. Even through his witty personality and Armani dress shirt, the weariness seems to radiate off of him. Shuichi pauses with a single arched brow, his glass lingering just before parted lips.

“Is there a reason you keep staring at me?” He asks Hikaru, curiosity painting his features. The redhead merely flashes him a cheeky grin in response.

“It looks like you haven't slept in a week, you know” Hikaru responds, as his own glass rotates beneath the rolling of his wrist. Shuichi can see the dark liquid swirling in a circular motion, and for a moment he feels it's a perfect representation of his thoughts. He forces his emotions down like the merlot hurricane before him, and he straightens in his chair.

“I suppose work has kept me particularly busy these days” he replies. He can't reveal that he hasn't slept properly since the news of his best friend’s pending arrival, so he swallows the nervousness in his throat. They finish their dinner in a relative state of relaxation, with the conversation never quite reaching the nervous energy between them.

Shuichi has long since poured his finest scotch for himself and Hikaru, the two of them moving to the sitting room after the dinner plates were cleared. Now they relax on the couch, sharing stories in attempts to catch up on the years lost between them. It isn't until Hikaru, having a glass beyond his limit, lets his head rest on the back of the sofa. With half-lidded eyes, he focuses on the ceiling above him. Shuichi takes advantage of this opportunity to study his profile out of the corner of his eye. Hikaru’s cheeks are slightly flushed, his jacket long since discarded on the back of some chair. This gives Shuichi an excellent view of Hikaru’s toned arms, likely developed by the most unthinkable of jobs. It isn't until Hikaru reaches a hand up to lazily rub the back of his neck that Shuichi realizes that his best friend really has grown up to become quite the man.

Before he can notice his gawking, Shuichi returns his view to the glass between his fingers. He watches the ice melt, the languid clinking filling the room with a sort of nuance he can’t quite place. Maybe it's confusion Shuichi muses, coming to terms with the fact that his feelings towards Hikaru may be changing more than he originally intended them to. He takes another sip before placing his glass on the coffee table and leaning back in his seat. Shuichi takes a deep breath to fill the now-uncomfortable silence as he thinks of how to approach the subject, but Hikaru reacts before the words come to mind.

“You keep staring at me” he murmurs, his brow cocked in amusement. Hikaru lifts his head and leans closer to his friend, and for a moment Shuichi thinks it’s to make fun of him. When the words don’t come, Shuichi becomes acutely aware of how the alcohol in Hikaru’s system has lowered his inhibitions. He convinced himself that Hikaru was only moving closer to hear him better, but a small part of Shuichi tells him that his friend is more in control of his behavior than he gives him credit for. When Hikaru weaves shaky fingers through raven hair, Shuichi is reminded of a time when they were teenagers. With a movement Shuichi can only akin to liquid courage, he takes Hikaru’s wrist and tugs him closer before their lips come together in a familiar feeling. He is warm and tastes like the scotch that passed his lips only moments before, and Shuichi cannot help but smile. They part, with the two of them feeling more giddy than flustered. In an effort to save face, Shuichi clears his throat and fidgets with the collar of his dress shirt. Despite his cool facade, the blush creeping onto his cheeks gives him away. Hikaru can’t help but chuckle as he brings him in for another kiss. This one is more confident than the last, the pair moving together as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The night melts away to secret kisses and the dawning realization that after all these years, being together felt like finally coming home.

#Kissed By The Baddest Bidder #kbtbb #shuichi hishikura #hikaru aihara #Shuichi/Hikaru #ShuichixHikaru #my writing #my fic #Voltage #Voltage Inc #Voltage Games #voltage fanfiction #fluff #drunken fluff #sorry this is so late lmao

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