Memories of a night left behind.

Every brain cell in his skull screamed that he should escape as fast as his legs could carry him out of that man's territory but he held back or you could say his heart held him back.

He knew what could happen when he made his advances towards Haruki. Haruki might have been the one to make the first move last night but if he did not want anything to happen, nothing would have happened, and remembering the face of the man underneath him, riding on him . . . you could say he had been trapped.

He liked the younger man despite how dangerous the man was the marks left on his body screaming with evidence of that but he sure liked and it was an experience he would never forget. He would not imagine someone else in that position regardless of what position that person took on Haruki's bed.

It was up to him to secure his space on Haruki's side and possibly preserve his life in the process of keeping anyone off Haruki's bed.

He was not sure he would get Haruki to come to him anytime soon remembering Haruki's moment of regret that almost led to his death but he could only hope that Haruki would not be able to be with anyone until he found a solid position beside him.

With that on his mind, he stood up and walked out of the room with one last glance at the sharp dagger that was thrown carelessly on the bed.

****

Hiroshi was gone from the room when Haruki was done in the bathroom. He had spent a while in there so it was not very surprising that the man must have woken up. He was surprised to see Hiroshi fully dressed in a sweatshirt and sweatpants in the kitchen when he walked downstairs.

"I am preparing a simple breakfast for us," Hiroshi raised his head from the frying pan before him and glanced at Haruki. "You don't mind toast and egg, right?"

Haruki found himself in a confused state. He expected the man to hug him like the passionate man he acted like last night but none of that came and he threw the dagger he held carelessly once more on the kitchen island.

He watched Hiroshi's body language closely. He might have concluded that he was the problem but would not make him hesitate to end the man's life if the man tried to claim anything romantic between them.

"What are you carrying a dagger around for?" Hiroshi asked casually as he served a plate of fried egg and toast before Haruki. When Haruki ignored his question, he asked, "Warm milk or coffee?"

"Coffee," Haruki replied reaching for a toast on the plate. "Where did you take your bath?"

"In the guest's room," Hiroshi replied naturally as though he had claimed that room as his.

"The clothes," Haruki gave him a once over as Hiroshi served him a glass of coffee he had prepared beforehand.

"The guestroom," Hiroshi replied as he served himself and sat down on the stool opposite Haruki at the kitchen island. "I don't know how you like your coffee but I hope you enjoy it."

Haruki ignored the toast and reached for the glass of coffee. After a sip, he placed it on the table and without a comment, focused on the toast again.

Hiroshi chose to take his silence as approval and it was hard for him to hold back an obvious sigh of relief. He appeared as relaxed as possible making it hard for Haruki to recognize the fact that he seemed to be sitting on pins with the dagger less than an arm away from them.

Breakfast was quiet as each of them began the mission of emptying their plates and cups. Both of them seemed to be lost in their thoughts but equally giving adequate attention to the person opposite them as though seeking a slip up in their façade.

Though eating as relaxed as possible, Hiroshi was done with his meal first but he did not stand up. What he wanted the most at that moment was the adequate view of the beautiful human before him but all he could do was steal glances.

"Are you going to keep staring at me?" Haruki had to ask the man who was watching him in a relaxed state.

"I am waiting for you to be done, I need to clean the dishes," Hiroshi forced those words that happened to be the opposite of what he felt.

"You can begin cleaning yours, I will be done soon," Haruki replied nonchalantly as he continued chewing on the bread.

"Okay," Hiroshi responded without hesitation as he stood up and packed up his plate and cup.

Ignoring the dishwasher, he began cleaning up everything himself when he heard the slight push of the stool against the marble floor before a long silence followed. The man seemed to have a very good ability of concealing his footsteps but Hiroshi could sense the man's presence coming closer.

Haruki's chest touched the man's back in a slight touch as he dropped his plate and cup in the sink. He remained in that ambiguous position until Hiroshi's movement stopped and he froze visibly.

Before he could speak, Haruki leaned closer pressing his chest against the man's defined back, and with his lips close to Hiroshi's ear, he whispered, "About last night . . ."

"Hmm . . .?" Hiroshi responded naturally as he fought back the urge to turn so he could hold the man in his arms and kiss those lips he could not get enough of last night.

Haruki fought back an urge to clear his throat as he found the situation getting awkward rather than intimidating as he wanted it to be. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and asked, "The drinks I drank last night, can you remember the name?"

Hiroshi almost sighed in relief as he said excitedly, "Of course."

Haruki moved away from the man who suddenly became unreadable. It was bittersweet as he walked to the island and sat down after pulling back a stool. If Hiroshi had continued the sentence with anything related to what happened between them, then the shame would be enough for him to bring in a cleanup team.

Hiroshi had evaded that with a natural response waiting for Haruki to speak up which meant the man did not want to talk about what happened last night. Did what happened between them mean so little to the man enough to make him act as though nothing happened between them?

He has always been the one playing the role of the cold lover who forgets what happens in the bedroom as soon as they step outside having someone do that to him felt sour no matter how much he wanted what happened to be left in the past.

"Last night . . ." Hiroshi began as he mopped the water off his hands with a towel.

Haruki raised his head and met the gaze of his gorgeous light brown eyes that seemed to be pulling him in as he felt revitalized at the thought that the doctor might have remembered what happened. He forgot all about his regret, his gaze unwavering.