Oh, I’m so sorry – do you want a hug? ❤ ❤ ❤
“You’re joking,” says Arima.
“I’m totally not,” Eto says, straddling him. “Houji and Tatara are meeting in this same resort.”
“I thought Houji hated Tatara,” Arima says in confusion as Eto blinds him. And by blind, she removes his glasses so she can pepper his face with kisses.
“Gosh, you’re so distracting,” Eto murmurs. “Well, they do, but they sometimes realize all that hatred stems from love and arrange weekend trysts. Just like us, eh?”
“I don’t hate you,” Arima says, smiling a genuine smile at Eto. It takes her breath away. “I never have.”
“I know, Kishou.” Eto settles herself atop his chest. “I love you, too.”
Across the hotel, Houji glares at Tatara. “This doesn’t make up for anything.”
“I’m the one who lost family because of you,” Tatara retorts, handing him a perfectly crafted White Russian. The same drink he made the night they met. “Well? Is it as good as you remember?”
“Damn you,” growls Houji. “You can’t even drink it. How can you make something so good?”
“I’m talented.” Tatara smirks and reaches for his bottle of blood wine.
“An entire bottle?”
“I never get drunk.” Tatara grins.
Houji colors. Because he has, often, in front of Tatara. In fact, Tatara used to tuck him into bed and take care of him when he was hungover.
“I’ve always wondered,” says Tatara, “why you drank so much if you knew I was a ghoul. If you were undercover.”
Houji hangs his head. “I did because I was desperate for you to have one, just one, drink with me, so I could call CCG off you.”
Tatara purses his lips to cover his emotions. “I see.”
He tilts his head. “Kiss me.”
“I thought you’d never want that again.” Houji lunges for him.
“I’ll always want you,” Tatara whispers in his lover’s ear.