Chris rummaged through the hallway closet for extra blankets—it was getting chilly at night, and Ichigo had kicked his off again during story time. The top shelf was a mess of boxes Haru never sorted: old tax files, baby stuff from when Ichigo was tiny, random keepsakes.
One box teetered, spilling when he tugged a blanket. Photos scattered across the floor—yellowed edges, some in sleeves, others loose.
Chris knelt to gather them, smiling at baby Ichigo pics first: chubby cheeks, toothless grins, Haru young and tired-eyed holding him proud.
Then an older one caught his eye—high school Haru.
He picked it up careful. Haru in school uniform: navy blazer, white shirt, tie loose like he couldn't wait to yank it off. Hair black and messy even then, but shorter. Face serious, dark brown eyes staring straight at the camera—no smile, but something soft in them. Leaner build, sleeves rolled hinting early rebellion.
Chris's heart flipped. "Holy crap... teen Haru was cute."
More photos: class group, Haru in back row looking bored. Sports day—him in track shorts, athletic legs on show, medal around neck. Club pict—debate team? Haru mid-argument gesture, intense.
Chris sat cross-legged, flipping through. One candid: Haru under cherry blossoms, wind tousling hair, rare half-smile like secret joy. Another: him with friends, arm slung over a guy's shoulder—platonic, but young Haru relaxed, guard down.
Haru walked in from kitchen, drying hands. "Found the blankets ye—"
He stopped, seeing the photos. Face flushed faint. "Oh. That box."
Chris held up the cherry blossom one, grinning big. "Haru-san... you were adorable. This uniform? Killer. And this smile—rare treasure."
Haru rubbed neck, reserved vibe cracking embarrassed. "Ancient history. Cringe era."
Chris scooted over, patting floor. "Sit. Tell me stories. Debate club captain? Track star?"
Haru sat reluctant, but eyes warmed. "Debate—yeah. Loved arguing logic. Track for stress—ran when life heavy. Uniform mandatory—hated ties."
Chris flipped to group pic. "Friends? Crushes?"
Haru chuckled low. "Friends good—some still text. Crushes... couple quiet ones. Shy back then. Guarded early."
Chris leaned shoulder to shoulder. "This Haru—serious, cute, intense. Same eyes I fell for."
Haru met gaze, vulnerability soft. "You seeing teen me... weird but nice."
Ichigo toddled in sleepy, dino trailing. "Papa? Pictures?"
Haru scooped him. "Old Papa school days."
Ichigo pointed cherry blossom. "Papa pretty!"
Chris laughed. "Agreed, buddy."
Bedtime extended—Ichigo on Haru's lap, "stories" of teen antics (clean versions). Kid out fast, photos tucked safe.
Living room dim, lights low. Chris pulled Haru close. "Finding old you... hot."
Haru eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Chris straddled lap, lips soft. "Show me young Haru energy."
Kiss ignited—slow nostalgia, turning hungry. Tongues brushed urgent, breaths quick.
Shirts shed—Chris's tee lifted slow, Haru's yanked. Skin met hot, slim pressing medium. Haru's mouth neck—kissing slow, nipping gentle memory marks. Chris arched, gasp breathy, grinding instinctive.
Pants undone impatient, pushed away. Bare, sweat-slick. Bodies aligned—Haru's hand wrapping firm, stroking rhythm rolls. Chris bucked, moans soft, legs tight.
Haru's free hand traced thigh, deepening friction. Pleasure coiled intense—eyes locked, hazel playful love, brown full devotion. Whispers: "Young Haru cute," Chris panted; "All yours now," Haru husky.
Climax shared—Chris tensing beautiful, release crashing muffled cry. Haru followed, shuddering deep.
Tangled after, breaths evening. Chris smiled lazy. "Old pics best find."
Haru kissed temple. "You best everything."
Morning routine: pancakes, Ichigo retelling "Papa pretty school," giggles big. Photos out again—family album adding teen Haru page.
Old picture treasure—past meeting present, love timeless.