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28 March 2018 @ 06:56 pm
fic: 10 more days with you  
Fandom: Hey! Say! JUMP
Pairing: Yabu Kota/Yaotome Hikaru
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3,641 (10 fics)
Summary: Even more bits of Yabu and Hikaru's life together
Notes: The next ten days in my domestic fluff challenge.

11. Coffee and/or tea

Yabu hadn’t been sure when his friend suggested this blind date. A friend of a friend knew someone who had a friend that just broke up with someone and wanted to “get back out there,” so to say. The whole situation was convoluted, and he hadn’t even been sure he wanted to accept the idea in the first place.

The breakup sounded like something straight out of a cheesy shoujo manga. Boy moves halfway across the country to further his career, his boyfriend was going to move with him, backed out at the last second claiming something or other, Yabu had lost interest. In the end, the two had broken up and Yabu’s supposed “date” was looking for a fresh start in a new city.

“It sounds absolutely ridiculous and fake,” he had told his friend over brunch.

But alcohol or some sort of black wizarding magic had Yabu changing his mind as soon as, through an intertwisted mangle of communication, he was given a picture of his date to be.

He was cute. Shaggy hair, big smile, looked like he had some muscle on him, and the picture came with a promise the boy, his name was Hikaru, was the funniest person Yabu would ever meet.

Humor was subjective, but he agreed on the basis that he was only doing this to see if this strange man from Miyagi was even real or not….and not that Yabu was immensely attracted to him.

They agreed on a little coffee shop in the city, one far enough from the tourist traps that only locals would stop by. Nothing fancy. Just a little time to sit down and get to know each other, see if there was any chemistry there besides physical.

To say Hikaru was more handsome in person felt like an understatement. Only a tad shorter than Yabu himself, he was a ray of sunshine when he walked through the door, and Yabu wondered why anyone would want to let go of him. He felt as if Hikaru was someone he wanted to protect so that his smile could continue to exist.

They ordered their drinks, coffee for Hikaru and tea for Yabu, and they found a table in the back of the café to sit down at.

He couldn’t remember how long they sat there, words flowing from their mouths that Yabu often found himself pausing, thinking of the last time he chatted with someone like this. It was the first time they met, and yet he found such an ease and comfort speaking with the man across from him, as if they have been friends for many years instead of minutes.

Hikaru spoke with passion, every word one that Yabu wanted to listen closely to and not miss a drop. But when Yabu spoke, his words not fitting together like he wanted them to, Hikaru listened with such interest it made Yabu only want to continue.

He was sweet, kind, and Yabu appreciated the enthusiasm. It made it worth the train fare to come for a few hours and meet someone new.

“Hey,” Hikaru said, empty cups sitting between them. “I know this is a little forward, but I want to say it.”

Yabu could feel his heart beat picking up, anticipating the next few words.

“You’re sweet, and I really enjoyed today,” he continued. “Do you…wanna get coffee again sometime?

“Sure,” Yabu said, hopping he wasn’t blushing too much. “I’d really like that.”

12. Cooking together

Second dates were hard, coming up with something interesting to do that kept the other person interested while still being light and not too serious. Hikaru had never been good at thinking of second date ideas. They were too boring, too dangerous, too….crazy, for lack of better word.

Cooking was safe. Who didn’t like cooking? Or at least know the basics of cooking? And there had been a cooking class on Italian cuisine he wanted to try, but it had been labeled, “A romantic night in Rome,” and he didn’t think it would be smart to show up as a single guy to something marked for couples.

He suggested the idea over text, figuring it would be the best way given Yabu’s schedule during the week. He could respond when he had time, but the wait kept Hikaru glued to his phone, itching for an answer from the moment he first sent the text message.

It was late in the night when a response came, waking him up from his half asleep state. The message was only a few words, but it put a smile on Hikaru’s face.

/Sure. Let’s go./

It was a small, intimate thing, only a few other couples in the space along with them. Wine and cheese that they nibbled on as the instructor walked through the basics of a good red sauce, providing each couple with ingredients for the dishes they would prepare together.

The first hint should have been when Yabu dropped the knife, metal clanging across the smooth tile flooring, apologizing profusely as he bent to pick it up. Especially the third and the fourth time it happened, or when Yabu dropped chunks of egg shell into his yolks.

“Sorry,” Yabu said, reaching into the egg mixture to retrieve the eggshells. “I’m…a bit of a klutz.”

But it didn’t feel like normal klutz behavior, so Hikaru kept an eye on everything Yabu did. He checked to make sure the pan wasn’t too hot, there was enough oil in it, ruffling Yabu’s hair when he did something well and kissing his nose. Although it wasn’t often, he could tell Yabu appreciated the small praises.

When they sat down at the end of the class, a plate of food between them that they had cooked together, Hikaru felt Yabu tense beside him, as if he was anticipating a particular question being asked.

“What do you want to do next time?” Hikaru asked, twirling his fork through the spaghetti they had prepared.


“You know,” Hikaru said, picking up the food and gasping when several strands fell back onto the place, “our next date. We did something I like, and I want to do something you like.”

“Even a soccer game?” Yabu asked.

“Tell me when to cheer and boo, and I’ll make it through it,” Hikaru responded.

“Then it’s a date.” Yabu’s lips had never been as soft against his cheek.

13. Washing dishes

Household chores were calming to Yabu. How his body could settle on a task and he could let his mind wander, mentally checking off everything he had to do the rest of the day.

His favorite was standing at the sink, scrubbing away the mess from the pots and pans Hikaru had used to cook dinner, while he peaked up from time to time to watch Hikaru spread on the couch, eyes glued to some variety show on tv. Hikaru was relax, sometimes curled under a blanket, but his expression was always soft

There were times Hikaru caught him staring, a questioning expression spreading across his face, but Yabu only smiled and continued with his work.

Other times, while he worked, a warm presence came from behind, curling its arms around his stomach and holding him close. Lips peppered his neck, making Yabu gasp and nearly drop the plate he was washing into the sink.

“Thank you,” Hikaru would say, low words whispered across Yabu’s neck as he slowly kissed downwards. “You work so hard.” And in those moments, he gave himself to the slow burning fire between them.

Yabu didn’t do it to be praised. He didn’t do it to be owed anything. He only wanted to contribute to their household in some way. If there were benefits along the way, well, he didn’t mind at all.

14. Homework and/or job work

“I can’t anymore,” Hikaru said, dropping his pen in a dramatic fashion, falling back onto the carpet behind him. “It’s too much information. I’ll just drop out and become a farmer.”

“Farmers have difficult work, too,” Yabu said, ignoring the slight drama show his boyfriend was putting on. He was only doing it for the attention. “Don’t say you’ll be one cause you think it’s easy work.”

“Yeah, but,” he started, but huffed. “Then I’ll become a stripper.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” Hikaru said, pushing himself back to a sitting position. “I’ll take my clothes off on stage and make all of the girls scream. Would you still love me then?”

Yabu tapped his paper, trying to think through the steps to the math problem in his head. “Of course I would.”

“Even if I slept with other people for money?” he asked.

“That would make you a prostitute and not a stripper,” Yabu said, pen writing the steps to the problem down. “There’s a difference.”

Hikaru puffed out a little, ‘oh,’ before his eyes turned downward to his own work.

It was roughly five minutes of silence, enough for Yabu to finish a few more of his homework problems before Hikaru huffed again, bored.


He saw the boy next to him freeze, as if he were a puppy caught inching towards something he was supposed to be touching. “Yes?”

“Come here a second,” Yabu said, using his pen to beckon his boyfriend over. Hikaru scooted closer, eyes far too wide and innocent.

Yabu leaned over captured lips in a kiss, soft and sweet, but tongue darting out. Little gasps, and definitely a little moan slipping through Hikaru lips as he kept leaning forward as Yabu pulled away.

“Finish your work,” Yabu said, hands hard against Hikaru’s shoulders, keeping him arms distance away. “Finish it and we can kiss some more.”

“But,” Hikaru said, biting his lip. His eyes glanced down at the work left, “all of it?”

“Don’t worry,” Yabu spoke softly, voice going deeper. “I’ll reward you every so often.”

15. Family visits

“No, but seriously Kota is this shirt okay?” he pointed to the one on his body. Neutral tone, not too busy, something that stated he had style but it wasn’t an overstatement.

“Yeah, it looks good.”

“You didn’t even look,” Hikaru huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m changing.”

“What, no, Hikaru,” Yabu said, finally tearing his eyes away from the tv. “What’s the big deal? Its just dinner.”

“It’s dinner with your family, and it’s the first time I’m meeting them,” Hikaru said, shirt already stripped off and thrown to the floor. “I have to find the perfect outfit.”

“Hikaru, babe,” Yabu called after, the sounds of scurrying footsteps followed Hikaru as he strode back to their bedroom closet. “Come on. You’ve met my parents before.” Hands curled around Hikaru’s waist, holding him close. “Why is now so special? Help me out here.”

He sighed, turning in Yabu’s tight grip to face him. “It’s just…it’s stupid, but this is the first time they’re meeting me as your boyfriend. I want it to go well, so they don’t hate me.”

“Hikaru,” he said softly, running a hand through Hikaru’s bangs. “They’re not going to hate you. They already love you, and I can tell you they’re happy we’re together and happy.”


“Really, really,” Yabu said, pulling Hikaru close, and hugging him tight. “So don’t worry about what you’re wearing. Put a shirt on, we’ll have dinner with them, and everything will be alright.”

“Okay.” Hikaru hugged him back. “I just…might need help with the iron one more time…the shirt I wanted to wear is kind of crumpled on the ground.”

16. Trying something new

“Are you sure about this?” Hikaru said, flipping over the DVD case to read the back for the seventh time. “This seems…”

“Go ahead and say it,” Yabu said, sitting down on the couch next to Hikaru, popcorn bowl in hand. “I know you want to.”

“I mean, it’s just for lack of a better word,” Hikaru continued, cringing when he reached some of the actor’s names. They hadn’t had particularly stunning careers, and their rolodex of work was rather lackluster.

“Hikaru.” The warning in his tone was evident.

“Fine,” Hikaru said. “It looks boring.”

“Keito said it was interesting.” Yabu picked up the remote, changing the settings to where the DVD player was connected.

“Keito also loves this stuff,” he muttered, sinking further into the couch.

“Think of it as an adventure,” Yabu said. “It’s one movie, that’s it. Then we can go back to our regular program of giant robots fighting each other.”

He sat there for a second, going through his options, before he sighed, taking the remote from Yabu’s hand and pressing the play button.

“I hope you’re right,” Hikaru said as they settled onto the couch watching the title screen play.

17. Kisses

Evenings were his favorite time. Coming home from work, Hikaru in the middle of cooking dinner since his office let him go home early most days. Yabu would hug him from behind, peering over Hikaru’s shoulder and try to guess what he was making. Hikaru would smile and shoo him away, telling Yabu to get changed and get ready. Dinner was almost done.

They’d make small talk, Hikaru would make small talk. He’d chatter about what this coworker did and that one didn’t, how their boss didn’t like that. He’d tell stories where he would stop eating, using his chopsticks for emphasis, and Yabu sat and listened to every word, drinking them down.

He’d clean up, giving Hikaru a chance to rest and sit in the living room, but Hikaru would always stand up halfway through, drying the dishes right after Yabu would finish washing away the suds.

When they were done, Hikaru would pull Yabu into a hug, tight, one that warmed him and brought happiness to Yabu’s eyes even on his most exhausting days. Until his head was tugged down, lips captured in a slow, sweet kiss he never wanted to end.

They wouldn’t do much with their evenings, tv shows and the occasional movie, but Yabu didn’t mind. It was the sense of this was his home, his life, that he didn’t want to part with.

18. Hugs

Public affection had never been a part of Yabu’s game, not something he sought out. He didn’t need the world to know he was in a relationship except for the occasional handholding. It felt like he was merely putting a sign above himself, asking people to lay witness to his relationship and it’s supposed perfection. Perhaps it was why he had never had a relationship for long, ex-partners always saying he seems too cold and distant in their time together.

But there was something about Hikaru, something Yabu couldn’t quite put his finger on that was different.

Yabu had dated energetic men before, ones with life and personality that he couldn’t help but fall for. Boys with long, beautiful hair, and bodies he would kill for. He had his fair share of dates, long relationships he thought would make it until the end of time.

Hikaru was different. Somehow. He only wanted Hikaru’s hand to be in his, fingers curled around each other. Yabu wanted to kiss him when other people weren’t watching, sneaking them on empty trains or when they were pushed together on crowded ones. He wanted to touch Hikaru, see him squirm in public, so it made their embraces at home that much hotter.

But most importantly he wanted to pull him close, hug his boyfriend tightly. When something didn’t pan out at work or Hikaru was so excited he was nearly hopping up and down where he stood. He wanted the heat of his body to be a comfort, a place that Hikaru could go to when he needed support and love.

Yabu had loved his exes, every single one of them. There was no doubt about it, but every time he saw his boyfriend, he wanted his hand to be curled in Hikaru’s. He wanted the world to know Hikaru was his.

19. Forgetting something

Yabu had never been one to play around with psychos, or rather, civilians who believed they were the devil, but Yaotome Hikaru seemed to be a bug that kept popping into his life whenever he least expected it. He threw around strange words and input himself into Yabu’s murder investigations whenever he pleased.

It had been a murder case that brought them together, of course. An old, how did Hikaru describe him? A client? A former patron of his club? Had been murdered. An open and closed investigation according to Yabu’s coworkers. A drug deal gone wrong, but it hadn’t set well in Yabu’s stomach and neither Hikaru’s. Their investigations, though separate originally, converged until they brought the killer to justice.

Ever since, Hikaru had injected himself into all of Yabu’s cases, using his strange charm to get their suspects to tell them their hidden desires, making it easier to find their culprits.

But Hikaru was attracted to him. That much was certain. Following Yabu around, breaking into Yabu’s house, seeing him naked. All things Hikaru had done in order to get closer to him.

Yabu did enjoy their work, their partnership. Although a tad insane, Hikaru was fun to work with, and their banter made the gruesome nature of their cases together rather fun and lively.

They often met at Hikaru’s club to discuss the nature of their cases and, as time passed, Yabu met Hikaru early in the morning to drive him to the station. After receiving his position as civilian consultant, Yabu was less reluctant to allow Hikaru to ride in his squad car.

He received the text late one night, asking him to come to the club one morning, top floor where Hikaru’s accommodations were. Yabu didn’t pay it any mind. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. They sometimes met, and Hikaru cooked them breakfast before leaving, and Yabu had a few questions he needed to ask regarding the case they were currently assigned.

Everything was silent when he arrived. Oddly silent from the way Hikaru walked around his home before.

“Hikaru?” Yabu called out, questions cycling through his mind. “Are you here?”

“Just a minute,” came the immediate response. “Make yourself at home.”

Yabu made his way to the fridge, poking around a few things to find where Hikaru hid his orange juice. From how much food he stole from Yabu’s own fridge in the beginning of their partnership, in the name of “breakfast,” he could afford to lose a little food himself.

“Sorry, detective. Didn’t meant to keep you wait,” Hikaru said, his voice closer.

“It’s alright,” Yabu said, grabbing the carton of orange juice and closing the fridge door. “I was-” He dropped the carton, eyes going wide.

Naked. Top to bottom, not a shred of cloth on that impeccable body, and Hikaru stood so confidently, as if he was king of the universe.

“Like something you see, detective?” he asked, voice almost too charming for Yabu’s ears, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t heard it before. “I thought it was only fair. I saw everything of yours, so you should see mine.”

Not a thought processed through Yabu’s mind, everything he wanted to know thrown out the window. The only thoughts he had were of Hikaru and the toned abs before his eyes.

“If you like something you see, feel free to take it,” Hikaru said, motioning around the kitchen.

“I…can have anything?” he asked.

Hikaru gave a devilish grin. “Of course. What’s mine is yours.”

His body moved before he could process what it was doing, but his words followed soon after. “Then I know what I want.”

20. A heated argument

There weren’t many times that they fought. They usually kept it calm, silly little disputes that ended in Hikaru wrapped in Yabu’s embrace, kisses being shared between the two of them.

But when they fought…Hikaru had never felt angrier. His words never reaching Yabu’s ears, Yabu’s never reaching his. They were so tightly bound by their point of view, what they believed to be true, they couldn’t see the other side. How the other felt.

He didn’t like when Yabu got angry. Making Hikaru slam doors behind him as he ran from their fights, wanting to put as much distance as he could between them before he could do something he regretted, say something he regretted. He wished he could hate him, hate Yabu for his inability to listen, but he couldn’t. Hikaru loved him too much to create hatred within himself.

It was always an hour, never more, never less, that he laid on their bed, tears streaming down his face. Worried, so much worry, that this fight would be the one that would break them. But there was always the gentle knock, one that made Hikaru tense, thinking the fighting would begin again.

Yabu would open the door slowly, body hugging the doorframe, as he asked if he could come in. In the end, no matter how much time Hikaru took to say yes, Yabu would never walk through the door until Hikaru said so.

He’d cross the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, not touching Hikaru as if it was divine punishment for their fight.

“I’m sorry,” Yabu would begin, his words soft and tender. “I…have no excuses for what I said and what I’ve done. I keep promising you I’ll change, and I haven’t. I should have listened more instead of causing you pain…Can you forgive me?”

Hands shaking, he reached out, rubbing the soft skin of Yabu’s thigh as he spoke. “As long as you can forgive me too?”

Yabu covered Hikaru’s hand with his own, fingers curling their best into Hikaru’s. “Of course.” He squeezed. “Of course I can.”