His breath hitches, catching in his throat, as Haibara talks about what he'll do. What he's already doing. What he needs. It speaks to those years alone, years where Nanami missed him more than anything but rarely spoke of it aloud, rarely demonstrated how much he wanted Haibara back because it hurt so much. It hurt too much. Did he not know? Did he not feel it?

Nanami wraps his arms around Haibara and turns so he can lay Haibara flat on his back on the couch with Nanami above him. He kisses Haibara and unbuttons the shirt the rest of the way. His hips pin Haibara's, and Nanami barely holds himself up on his elbows now the shirt's not in his way. "I will show you," he promises, "I will show you ever day how deeply I want you. I'm not used to feeling it this much, to wanting to needing someone this much. It's thrown off my whole routine. Everything I"m used to, and I'm glad," much as he is someone who lives by routine, "I am so glad you're here."

Tears form in his eyes, and Nanami kisses Haibara again, the love he feels and his personal discomfort with showing affection in public warring within him, "You can always hold my hand. Whenever we're out together." He doesn't know about the rest. It makes him flush, even here, to think about it.