AN: I'm alive. I was cheating on this site with Archive of our own. I totally write so much smut there it's bad. I am pandafarts on there just in case anyone cares~

Makoto was a giver in every way. He invested his whole being into what mattered to him. He carried a bag of cat treats for the many Tokyo strays. He tutored his fellow classmates when they asked for help. He dedicated himself to the younger students who looked up to him. He shopped for souvenirs for Ren and Ran to send home.

Haru was inherently concerned only with those who he knew closely. He didn't open up to others like Makoto did. He didn't care much for causes or charities or buying people lunch when they were broke.

But Makoto did, and that was part of why he was wonderful. It was also somewhat of a problem.

There were only so many stray cats you could feed, only so many trinkets and lunches you could buy. Only so many people that will accept the help and not use you.

Haru had never liked his friend's classmates. They seemed to notice Makoto's kind nature. They could afford drinks on Friday nights but not groceries. They could find a romantic partner, but not keep them. They came from bad families, and had broken souls, and they latched onto Makoto when he showed the faintest concern.

When he had gone to Australia, they had shown a video on what to do if the plane experienced an emergency. There would be oxygen masks dispensed. Haru knew himself that he would put his on first, and then make sure the people around him were okay.

Makoto would give his oxygen to a stranger if he had to, the coat off his back, his last yen. And as much as Haru loved his kind side, this concerned him.

He wanted Makoto to take care of himself. As he watched him lose money, and time, and sleep over these people, he started to resent them for putting his best friend through problems that weren't even his.

With every person he heard the hardship of, Makoto seemed to get a little sadder, a little more gloomy, and overall just emotionally exhausted, until one day the stress caused him to catch cold and remain bedridden.

Enough was enough.

Haru pretty much made up his mind to show his taller friend, in his own little awkward way, that he was allowed to put himself first.

"I made soup." He announced to the room more than to Makoto, before setting it down on the dresser.

"Thank you. I'll eat it soon."

"No, you won't, Makoto. You barely touched your tea."

"I'm sorry, Haru. I'm just… I'm just so tired."

Hearing that mumbled admission into the pillow did something to Haru. Makoto was facedown in his bed, broad shoulders rigid with stress, and his hands clenched into fists.

He was too good to suffer like this.

Haru wasn't great with comforting, but he braced himself mentally and took a deep breath, and sat nest to his friend's tense form, and awkwardly placed a cool hand on those tense shoulder blades.

Makoto let out a shaky breath. And another. His shoulders shuddered under Haru's palm and he shook silently.

It took him a minute to realize Makoto was crying.

"Sit up." Haru instructed firmly. The tall boy did as told, looking embarrassed at his moment of emotion.

Frowning. Haru used his hoodie sleeve to mop at the wetness on the other boys cheeks.

"You need to take care of yourself before you take care of others. You're hurting yourself."

Makoto sighed.

"I know, I thought I could handle it, but I just… I'm so worn out."

Haru found comforting hard, but slinging his arms around his friend and settling into a loose hug felt oddly natural. Makoto cried until he started to cough, still ill and Haru found himself easing them down so that he was supporting the taller boys weight. He didn't wanna lay on his chest because of his cold.

Makoto tensed.

"I'm too heavy." He mumbled.

Haru rolled his eyes.

"You can put your weight on me, I can support it."

"You really mean that, Haru?"

Of course he had meant it very literally, but of course he would be there for Makoto in all ways.

"Yeah." He rubbed his back absentmindedly, and pretty soon, Makoto started to relax. He was solid and heavy, and his hand clenched into Haru's sleeve, and his head came to rest upon Haru's neck.

Seeing the dried tear tracks, and the long blonde eyelashes and the crinkle in his brow spurred him on.

"Shh. It's okay." His cool hands came from Makoto's back to his mess of hair, and pretty much as soon as he smoothed back his bangs, the larger man melted and leaned into his touch,

"I'm sorry." Makoto mumbled.

"What the hell are you sorry for? You did nothing bad."

"But I.."

"Shut up. Just relax okay."

Makoto wrapped a large hand around Haru's bicep and Haru felt his heart, his treacherous heart, give a little leap.

Slowly but surely Makoto feel asleep.

Haru didn't have the heart to let go of him.

Plus maybe, just maybe, he needed this too.