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Buttermilk Frosting	By : Michalyn Category: +G to L > Haru wo Daiteita Views: 3015 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Haru wo Daiteita, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Buttermilk Frosting
- 1
I don't own the lovely boys of Haru
wo Daiteita. This fic is unbetaed so please excuse any mistakes you may find.

Buttermilk Frosting

by Michalyn

Fandom: Haru wo Daiteita by Nitta Youka; Pairing: Kato + Iwaki

Note: This fic was inspired
by an illustration from Nitta Youka's artbook where, Kato and Iwaki are dressed
in sweaters and Iwaki seems to be holding a muffin of some sort. It's such
a sweet image that the muses couldn't contain themselves. I hope you enjoy.
<3

Iwaki and Kato hurried to the studio, huddled against the cold. Iwaki loved
the Kansai area but the winter wind in Osaka seemed to cut right through a body,
no matter how many layers one was wearing. A wet wind, he always called it.
Beside him, Kato shivered dramatically and Iwaki echoed him, their breath visible
in ghostly plumes as they made their way to the front door. The sky was that
uniform gray that portended snow and Iwaki was thankful they had both worn their
heavier coats.

As soon as they entered the building,
steaming mugs of coffee were put into their hands and they were bustled to their
dressing room. Iwaki allowed himself to be led, watching as Kato smiled and
accepted the hot drink gratefully. During the winter, Iwaki's normally cheerful
partner was always a bit glum. Katou loved sun and hot weather, summers and
spring when he could surf and spend most of the day outdoors. Though married
life had mellowed him, Kato was not a homebody by nature and winter's enforced
confinement always made him a little restless.

Iwaki enjoyed the cold weather. There
was a tragic beauty to autumn's fiery leaves and winter's muted landcsapes--something
both somber and subtle that moved Iwaki far more deeply than the brashness of
the other two seasons. Still, he hated to see Kato miserable and he gave his
husband's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze as he walked past. Kato smiled, grabbed
Iwaki's hand and kissed it hastily before turning back to the make-up artist
who was dusting powder onto his cheekbones. It was Kato's eyes, however, that
spoke volumes. Their gazes held only for a second, but it was enough. Kato had
a way of understanding Iwaki without him ever having to say a word. It was why
Iwaki loved Kato most and what most often unsettled him. There was nothing in
his heart that was foreign to Kato--not even when Iwaki was a stranger to himself.

"Iwaki-san, shouldn't you change?
The photographers will be ready shortly." Shimizu-san, his manager beckoned
to him.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Shimizu-san,"
Iwaki murmured, reining in his wayward thoughts. Since the success of the Gigolo
spread, they had been inundated with requests from companies all over Japan
wanting "the magic couple" to help them sell everything from perfumes
to whiskey to pocky. Most were turned down, but this time, Iwaki and Kato had
accepted the proposal of Takahashi Momoko, an up-and-coming designer to model
her winter collection. It had been a while since he and Kato had worked worked
together on an advertisement and they were both looking forward to the opportunity.
In addition, Takahashi was the designer of the current and the
past two seasons, and her popularity could only be good for them.

Iwaki changed into the white, low-slung
slacks and thick angora sweater that were provided for him. The pristine color
complemented his fair skin and his hair shone blackly under the lights. Iwaki
had been asked to appear barefoot to the set and his toes curled against the
cold tile as he found his slippers and padded toward the cameras.

Takahashi herself was on set, surveying
everything with a critical eye. She was an eccentric persona with babyish features
and a smoke-roughened voice. Chunky gold hoops dangled from her ears and her
forearms were encircled by what seemed like hundreds of glittering bracelets.
Her own outfit was a bright palette of oranges and pinks that managed to look
startlingly mismatched and amazingly stylish at the same time.

If Iwaki had been wondering about Takahashi's
choice of colors for him, however, it became immediately clear as soon as he
saw Kato. Their outfits were identical, except Kato's sweater was a weave of
warm, earthy tones and burnished browns that brought out the honey of his gaze
and all the buried highlights in his hair. He was wearing dark slacks and his
naked toes peeked out from the overlong hems. The sight was oddly intimate and
heat pooled in Iwaki's belly. He looked at Kato and did not need a mirror to
understand the story Takahashi wanted to tell with these colors, with their
bodies--Iwaki's ice against Kato's fire. It was fitting, after all. Hadn't Kato
melted all the fear and frigidity in Iwaki's heart to leave him open, melting
... yearning?

"Okay! Kato-san, Iwaki-san--ready?"

They met across the draped backdrop and
when Iwaki took Kato's hand, he saw that the other man had also noticed the
outfits. In Kato's eyes, Iwaki saw the same recognition of what they were to
each other. More than that, Iwaki saw love and the scorching tenderness, uniquely
Kato's, that never failed to set him aflame.

------------------------------
"The shoot went well today, didn't
it?"

"I think so." Iwaki rested his
head against Kato's shoulder. They had returned home immediately after the shoot
and were both languid and drowsy after a bout of lovemaking. So sleepy in fact
that Kato had forgotten the muffins he put in the oven after they had showered
and dressed. By the time they remembered them, all were hard little mounds with
dark crusty edges. Iwaki reached for one ruefully.

"I know it fits us but ... it still
bothers me a little that she saw me as the cold one."

"Eh?" Kato's eyes widened. "What
are you talking about?"

Iwaki yawned. "Didn't you see our
outfits? I thought for sure you had noticed. You were heat and I was ice."

"Oh no, you're quite mistaken."
Kato was frowning. "I thought the outfits were brilliant. You were the
white heat and I was the one singed to a crispy brown." Kato took a bite
of his muffin. "Like this poor muffin here."

"Idiot," Iwaki shook his head,
"only you would think that." Iwaki went to the kitchen to grab another
muffin, this time, one that had not been so badly burnt. Kato came up behind
him, wrapping his arms around Iwaki just as he was spreading some buttermilk
frosting onto the little cake to hide some of its singed taste. Kato nuzzled
Iwaki's neck.

"I think you're very wrong about
this, Iwaki-san. I'm just grateful the shoot was with me and not someone else
who could be affected by your pheromones."

Iwaki frowned, elbowing him. "Don't
even start with that pheromone talk again."

"Hmph." Kato was licking a slow
path down Iwaki's neck. He paused and moved back up to capture Iwaki's earlobe
which he suckled lovingly. "I still don't see why I'm wrong."

"It was a winter collection, Kato.
Snow is white, frost is white--I don't think Takahashi-sensei was thinking of
heat. Here, try this." Iwaki reached behind him to offer Kato the sugared
muffin. "I think the frosting detracts from the burned flavor."

"Mmm."

"What do you think?"

"Sweet," Kato turned Iwaki around
in his arms, his eyes promising an evening of further delights, "but not
as sweet as Iwaki-san."

End
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Buttermilk Frosting