Never Apart Never Again @snippet 🗒️

Dinner forgotten.
Dessert forgotten.
The bouquet sliding somewhere onto the carpet.
They were supposed to just cuddle.
Supposed to.
But Ryota’s laugh, warm and soft against Eiji’s lips, changed everything.
“Come here,” he murmured, brushing a fleeting kiss over Eiji’s mouth.
Eiji kissed back — light, teasing, their noses nudging, chuckles slipping between breaths.
Ryota pecked his lips again.
Eiji stole another one.
Ryota retaliated.
Their eyes glinted — playful, seductive.
“Stop that,” Eiji whispered, smiling against Ryota’s mouth.
“Make me,” Ryota teased.
And then—
Ryota scooped him.
A little tug.
A shift of weight.
And Eiji flipped backward onto the couch with a surprised grunt.
Before Ryota could celebrate, Eiji’s hand shot out, grabbing his shirt —
and they both slipped right off the couch.
They hit the floor in a tangled heap of limbs and laughter.
Eiji propped himself on one palm, looming over Ryota, studying him from head to toe with a slow, sly smile.
Ryota blinked.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
Eiji’s palm pressed to the tile.
He moved it closer.
Then again.
Crawling toward him like a hunter.
Ryota scooted backward at the same pace, heartbeat rushing, lips curved in a wicked grin.
He stopped only when Eiji’s breath brushed his mouth.
That’s when Ryota suddenly leaned in and kissed him — quick, cheeky, addictive.
Eiji barely had time to chase the kiss before Ryota giggled, and darted backward again.
Eiji narrowed his eyes, amused.
“You asked for it.”
He lunged a little faster this time — palms sliding over the tile in bigger strides.
Ryota squeaked.
A very undignified, high-pitched squeak.
“Hey—HEY—Eiji, wait—!”
Eiji caught his ankle, tugged him closer.
Ryota yelped.
More laughter spilled, bodies tangling again.
They were both breathless—
Eiji hovering over Ryota, shirts halfway unbuttoned from all the grabbing and pulling—
When—
Click.
The front door swung open.
Haru’s voice rang in.
“We are… back ho—”
Kai stepped in behind him.
Both of them froze.
Four eyes wide.
One bag of snacks dropping to the floor in slow motion.
Ryota froze mid-grin.
Eiji froze mid-crawl.
Both adults on the living room floor.
Half undressed.
Practically on top of each other.
Haru finally found his voice.
“OH MY—WE DIDN’T—WE DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING!!”
Kai shielded his face with both hands.
“WHY are your shirts OPEN?! Why are you on the FLOOR?! WHY—”
Ryota wheezed, face exploding red.
“Haru—Kai—GO OUT—GO OUT—GO BACK TO YOUR FRIENDS’ HOUSE—GO ANYWHERE—JUST GO—”
Eiji just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose muttering under his breath, “Aren't they supposed to have group discussion?”
“…Ryota, get off me.”
“YOU get off ME!!”
Haru shrieked again.
Kai yelled, “WE’RE LEAVING—WE’RE LEAVING—STOP TALKING—OH MY GOD—”
The door slammed shut so fast the walls shook.
Silence.
Then Eiji slowly turned to Ryota.
“…This is your fault.”
Ryota burst into uncontrollable laughter, grabbing Eiji’s collar and pulling him down.
“Worth it.”
And he kissed him again.

Never Apart Never Again @snippet 🗒️

The table was still crowded with half-empty plates and the soft smell of grilled fish. Haru had turned the lights low, and the warm gold from the paper lanterns spilled over everyone’s faces.

“C’mon, a toast!” Haru grinned, lifting his glass. “To Papa Eiji—still somehow looking thirty at thirty-five.”

Laughter, light and easy. Eiji shook his head, smiling. Ryota sat opposite him, quiet, turning the stem of his glass between his fingers.

When the laughter faded, he cleared his throat. “Hey, uh… let me say something.”

Eiji looked up, surprised. Ryota never volunteered speeches.

“I was supposed to just say happy birthday,” Ryota began, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth. “But it feels weird just stopping there. So…” He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking down to the glass. “Here’s me trying not to screw this up.”

The room went still, the faint buzz of the ceiling fan the only sound.

“You’ve put up with me since I was what—seventeen? Loud, stubborn, a mess half the time. You still are, I know.” A quick laugh, thin and nervous. “But the thing is, Eiji… you never stopped being patient. Even when I made you angry. Even when I didn’t know how to love you right.”

His voice hitched on the word love. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his eye as if it itched, but his shoulders were trembling.

“I worry, y’know?” he said, softer now. “That one day you’ll get tired. That you’ll wake up and finally see how hard I am to live with. I don’t say it, but every time you walk out the door, a part of me still panics like that dumb kid I used to be. Because… you’re the air, Eiji. I don’t know how to breathe right when you’re not there.”

Eiji’s eyes shone, his hands motionless on the table.

Ryota tried to smile again, failed. The laugh that came out broke halfway. “I don’t deserve you. But every morning I see you next to me, and I think—okay, maybe today I can learn how to deserve it a little better.”

His voice cracked. He pressed a hand to his face, breath shaking through his fingers.

Haru and Kai looked at each other—no one dared move.

Then Eiji rose, quietly. Walked around the table. Laid a hand on Ryota’s shoulder.

Ryota’s head dropped, a small, broken sound escaping him. “Sorry,” he whispered, voice muffled. “Happy birthday. I just—”

Eiji didn’t let him finish. He leaned down, pressed his forehead against Ryota’s temple. “Shh,” he murmured, voice rough with tears. “You love me more than enough. Always have.”

Ryota’s breath hitched, a small sob swallowed against Eiji’s chest.

The lantern light flickered, catching the wet gleam in both their eyes.

Haru blinked hard, biting his lip. Kai reached for his hand under the table, squeezed once.

And for a long while, no one spoke—the only sound was Ryota’s uneven breathing slowly finding rhythm again against Eiji’s shoulder, the quiet pulse of love that had always been their way of saying home.

Never Apart Never Again @snippet 🗒️

... 

The phone rang twice. No answer.

A third time—Haru’s thumb hesitated before pressing “call” again. His chest felt tight, breath shallow. Kai never ignores him this long.

He listened to the ringing, each tone cutting deeper, until finally—

“...Haru.”

Kai’s voice came through, low, rough, like he’d been crying for hours.

“Kai! Are you okay? 

You didn’t reply. I was so—”

“I’m fine,” Kai interrupted softly. His tone didn’t sound fine at all. “Sorry, I just... needed some time.”

There was a quiet sound on the other end—something like a faint rattle. 

Haru frowned. “You sound weird. What happened after—after your dad…?”

A dry laugh. “What happened? Nothing much. Just… realizing how small I am, Haru.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No, it’s true,” Kai whispered. “I can’t even choose who I love without hurting everyone. It’s like... maybe the world doesn’t want us together.”

Haru’s throat tightened. He didn’t know what to say, only that he wanted to run to him. 

“Kai, please. Don’t talk like that. We’ll figure it out, okay? Just—stay where you are. I’ll—”

“Haru.”

That one word stopped him cold. There was something final in the way Kai said his name.

“Haru... you must know that I love you so much. I’ll risk anything for you.”

“Kai…” Haru’s voice cracked. “Why are you talking like this?”

A long silence. On the other side, Kai’s hand trembled as he stared at the open bottle of pills on his desk. Tears blurred his vision until everything turned into a smear of white and silver. He whispered:

“Then... say it for me. Please. Tell me you love me.”

Haru’s heart stuttered. He didn’t understand why his chest hurt so much, why the air suddenly felt heavy—but he obeyed, voice shaking:

“I love you, Kai. I really do.”

There was the sound of a breath hitching, and then—

“I love you too, Haru. I love you so much.” The words caught in his throat, trembling, breaking, fragile and wet with tears.

The line went quiet.

The phone slipped slowly from Kai's fingers, clattering softly against the floor — the sound of something inside him shattering. It was as if, in that moment, he was letting Haru go, tearing his soul in half.

His hands shook violently as he uncapped the bottle. The pills rattled out, scattering one by one — pale, small pieces, detached from each other, like fragments of his love for Haru now shattered beyond repair.

He stared at them for a long moment. Is this how love ends? In pieces? 

Then, with a choked breath, Kai swallowed — not just the pills, but everything. Every piece of his love, every unsaid word, every dream he thought he could keep, thinking if he swallowed them, he could stitch those broken pieces back together, hide them deep inside himself, and bury the pain where no one could ever find it again.

One swallow. Then another.

The bitterness spread like fire, burning down his throat, into his chest. His tears blurred everything — the desk, the walls, the world.

The dizziness came, slow at first, then heavy and thick. His vision dimmed; the bottle rolled away from his hand. A wave that rose and rose, until the world swayed around him.

He whispered, barely audible, “Haru…”

Kai's voice cracking, his last breath carrying the name like a prayer — and a farewell.

*NOTE* this scene is necessary for the plot.

Never Apart Never Again @snippet 🗒️

...

Haruto climbed onto the couch, clutching his crumpled drawing. His brows were scrunched, lips wobbling between confusion and frustration. 

“Papa,” he said, turning to Eiji first. 

“Why everyone has a mama… but I don’t?” 

Eiji froze — the pen in his hand stilled midair. Beside him, Ryota’s body stiffened. For a second, neither spoke. The rain outside pressed soft against the window, filling the silence that words couldn’t. 

Haruto looked between them, fidgeting. 

“Teacher said we draw family… 

but my friends said… mine’s wrong.” 

Ryota reached out, rubbing the back of Haruto’s small hand. His voice came quiet, rough at the edges. 

“Your drawing’s not wrong, Haru. 

It’s just… different.” 

Haruto frowned deeper. 

“But… who’s the mama then?” 

Eiji’s throat tightened. He glanced at Ryota — and in that glance passed everything: let me handle this. He leaned closer to Haruto, lifting him into his lap. 

“Haru, there are many kinds of families,” 

Eiji said softly, smoothing the paper. 

“Some have a mama and papa. 

Some have just one. 

Some have two papas, like you do.” 

Haruto’s eyes blinked, uncertain. 

“But… what if people say that’s weird?” 

Ryota sighed quietly, pulling Haruto’s small frame into his arms as well, resting his chin on his son’s head. 

“Then you tell them,” 

he said, gentle but fierce, 

“It’s not weird. It’s love. And love’s never wrong, right?” 

Haruto looked between them — Eiji’s calm eyes, Ryota’s steady smile — and the tension in his little shoulders melted. 

“Then I’ll say I have the best papas.” 

Eiji’s lips trembled; Ryota laughed wetly, voice breaking with something that wasn’t just pride — it was relief, and ache, and the quiet promise of standing together against the world. 

Eiji pressed a kiss to Haruto’s hair, whispering, 

“That’s all that matters, Haru. 

The rest… doesn’t change what we are.”