A knock at the door pulled Hayato out of the depths of differential equations and he glared at the blank wood for a moment before getting up, grumbling under his breath the whole way, to see who it was.

"Takeshi?" He blinked, hands full of his front door and his math textbook, neither free to adjust his reading glasses the way he felt a momentary need to.

"Hey." Takeshi leaned in the doorway, grinning. "Thought it was about time I stopped in for a visit."

After over a month away. Hayato sniffed, but stood aside for him. "I suppose you might as well come in, yes."

Takeshi sprawled out on Hayato’s couch. "So? How’s the university thing going?"

Hayato gave him a resigned look and set aside his book. "Pretty well. You’ve checked in with the Tenth?"

Takeshi chuckled. "I think maybe he’s not having as much fun as you are." He stretched out long legs, crossing his ankles. "He was looking kind of frazzled over the, um," Takeshi frowned, faintly puzzled, "the macro?"

"Macroeconomics," Hayato translated.

"Ah." Takeshi looked dubious. "Okay."

"Look it up yourself."

Takeshi laughed. "Caught me. Okay, I will."

Hayato shook his head. He was never sure whether Takeshi was genuinely lazy about these things or just doing it to tease him. "So?" he sighed. "How’s the idiot ball game going?"

Takeshi’s smile quirked. "It’s going well. We might actually make it to the Nihon Series this year."

"Good luck." Hayato stood up and went to fetch tea.

"Hayato."

"The Tenth approves," Hayato said, quietly. "That’s all that matters. It’s true, we aren’t under as much threat as long as we stay in Japan for now." He poured and handed Takeshi his cup before going to the picture window that was the one extravagance in his latest apartment. The city lights were starting to come on, as the sun set.

There was a sigh behind him. "I live close enough to come quickly when he needs us. And you can’t think I would let a game stop me, if he did."

Hayato’s mouth tightened and he lowered his head. "No, I don’t think that," he said to his cup.

After a moment Takeshi said, "You know, I’ve never heard you complain about Ryouhei-san’s career."

"Yeah, well, that’s him," Hayato muttered and took a sip of tea to loosen the slightly trapped feeling in his chest.

There was a click of porcelain on wood and then Takeshi’s arms were sliding around him, easing him back into the lean solidity of Takeshi’s body. "So what’s the difference between him and me?" he murmured.

"You’re the other person the Tenth really depends on." Hayato looked straight ahead, over the city.

Takeshi’s arms tightened. "Yeah?"

Hayato was silent. Takeshi waited, just holding him, and finally he sighed and growled, "You’re other the person I depend on, too."

"I’ll be here when you need me," Takeshi murmured against his hair. "Promise."

Hayato rested his head back on Takeshi’s shoulder. "I’ve got to be a complete idiot to believe that," he complained to his ceiling, because of course he did. Takeshi had the temerity to chuckle and Hayato elbowed him.

"Careful." He could tell Takeshi was smiling. "You’ll spill the tea."

He let Takeshi take the cup and set it on the shelves by the window and a low sound caught in his throat as Takeshi folded him more firmly into his arms.

"Do you need me to come back now?" Takeshi asked, softly.

Hayato wrestled with temptation for a moment and finally sighed. "Not really. I just…" he bit his lip.

Takeshi pressed a kiss to his neck. "I’ll stay for a while."

Hayato closed his eyes and breathed out. "Yeah." Takeshi always knew.

"Besides," Takeshi’s voice lowered, and one hand drifted up to start unbuttoning Hayato’s shirt, "I’ve missed you."

The breath was a laugh this time. "Takeshi…"

"What? I did." Takeshi’s lips curved against his neck. "And I missed this, too." His hand spread open against Hayato’s stomach and slid up over his chest, warm and slow.

Hayato made a husky sound, unwinding into the stroke of Takeshi’s hands, sighing as they slid over his ribs, down to his hips, strong and gentle. The steadiness of Takeshi’s touch untangled his thoughts, smoothed them into calm, and he had to admit he’d missed this too. His breath caught on a small shudder of heat as long fingers undid his slacks and slid inside to wrap around his cock, familiar and knowing.

"Easy," Takeshi breathed against his ear, and Hayato made a breathless, amused sound.

"When you’re doing this?" But it was true.

"Mm. Especially while I’m doing this." Takeshi’s fingers worked over him slowly and he drew Hayato more snugly back against him.

Having made his token protest, Hayato let himself settle into Takeshi’s arms and rested his head back. "Okay." Takeshi just about purred as he let himself be supported, and Hayato’s mouth quirked even as his hips rocked up into Takeshi’s hand. Sometimes he wondered if Takeshi made it so clear he liked it when Hayato relaxed so that Hayato could feel a little less needy for wanting it so much himself. It would be like him.

Right now, though, pleasure was unraveling his mind, so he let the thought go and just sighed as Takeshi’s hand stroked his cock slow and firm, building heat in him.

"Mmm, there." Takeshi’s mouth moved down his throat, open and wet, and he caught Hayato closer when he shuddered, arching, tipping his head further back. It felt so good to be held, tight and sure, and know Takeshi had him. It felt even better when Takeshi’s thumb rubbed slowly over his head.

He opened heavy eyes and saw their reflection in the window, the white of his shirt hanging off his shoulders; the darkness of Takeshi behind him, head bent; the movement of the strong hand between his legs, and heat spiked through him. He moaned as Takeshi’s hand tightened, pushing wantonly into that grip as pleasure rose and rose and spilled over, pulling him taut against Takeshi’s body, gasping for breath as heat wrung his nerves again and again.

Takeshi made a satisfied noise as Hayato slumped back against him, and cradled him close.

When Hayato had caught his breath he asked, "How long do you think you’ll stay?"

Takeshi was quiet for a moment before he said, "As long as I’m needed."

Hayato turned in Takeshi’s arms, leaning his head against Takeshi’s shoulder, and sighed. "Idiot. You’re always needed."

"Really?" He could hear the smile in Takeshi’s voice and a warm hand slid up to curve around the nape of his neck.

"The Tenth relies on you." And if Hayato’s voice was huskier than that statement called for, well.

"All right." Hayato made a startled sound as Takeshi lifted his chin and kissed him softly, breath catching into quiet when he saw how dark and serious Takeshi’s eyes had turned. "When you and Tsuna graduate from here. I’ll come back for good."

A shudder ran through Hayato as one thread of tension, years long, finally unwound. He buried his head against Takeshi’s shoulder and when he spoke it was muffled. "About time. Fucking baseball idiots, you just can’t do anything with them."

He wouldn’t be alone, at Tsuna’s side.

A chuckle ran through Takeshi’s chest. "So, I guess I’ll just have to see about the World Series before then. Since I’ll have other things to concentrate on after."

Hayato looked up with a wry smile, and this time he meant it when he said, "Good luck."

Takeshi kissed him again, lightly, and tugged up Hayato’s pants, refastening them. "So what do you have around here for dinner?"

"Probably nothing you’ll approve of." Hayato pushed back and buttoned his shirt himself, face hot.

"Probably not. Grocery shopping tomorrow," Takeshi declared, strolling toward the kitchen while Hayato reflected on the unexpected pitfalls of hanging around the son of a sushi chef. He smiled, though, and followed along to perch on the table and watch Takeshi rummage through his shelves. He had more reading to do, but the books would keep for later.

Later would be all right.

End