for @buttterfly - post-tfln

[taeru]

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[buttterfly]

"Unlucky is one way to put it."

Rin gripes, rolling his shoulders with a groan. It's quiet for a beat, before Ai starts talking about his dream. It's a weird perspective to be on the opposite side of. Ai hearing Rin's friends of all people, at a place like that? Only a typhoon in not typhoon season could bring on such a phenomena.

He waits for the tea to brew wordlessly, letting himself lean against the wall posture slackened.

"That's a weird as shit dream, Ai." Rin says bluntly, a laugh curling just around the edges of his tone. "Did it feel weird? Like dark, or lonely or anything? Or were you just subject to Nagisa whining to Rei about something? Now that sounds like some nightmare fuel."

[taeru]

He's gotten Rin to engage, which Ai considers a massive success. He knows it's only superficial, the way he can toss Rin this four-foot-deep lifeline, but it's something. It's better than letting Rin sit and ruminate and be left alone to the torrent. Rin's quip earns a genuine, soft laugh out of him.

He smiles in that way of his, so perfectly straddled between sincere and sheepish.

"Maybe a little dark. I remember trying to find a way out of the pool, but there was no ladder. And the guys outside couldn't hear me." His eyes roll up in recollection, "But being under the water was calming, so I wasn't too worried."

He does think about Rin's friends with some frequency. They were his friends too, but. Ai has always been careful in his mind to not cross boundaries and to understand his space and how much of it he could take up; Makoto, Nagisa, and especially Haruka were all pretty firmly Rin's territory first and foremost. The people who brought Rin back from the brink, accomplishing in an instant what Ai had tried to do for a year.

"If that happened in real life, I think Tachibana-san would have reacted. He's kind like that." And Ai is about to prattle on more when the kettle clicks; he hops down onto his feet, turns to the counter, and carefully pours both mugs just shy of rim full.

[buttterfly]

"Yeah." There's no room for rebuttal. Makoto's kindness extends to anybody in need of it. If Ai had been under, it wouldn't have been for long. Rin's eyes slip shut. There's something calming about being surrounded by water like that. Quiet, weightless.

"They're good guys. They would take care of you." It finally slips free, that admission. Those four would move the sun, moon and stars for somebody in need. Especially in the pool. Shit, Rin still owes Rei so much for letting him take his place in that relay. Stealing his thunder. He had worked hard for it, and Rin had flubbed so hard Seijuro booted him off the relay team. His times booted him out of the pool.

It's different now, sure. He's driven to make it to the top. But that time... he was the one floating. Weightless-- he shakes his head.

He just watches Ai pouring the tea, unsure what else to say to that.

[taeru]

"I'd like to get to know them more." It's a true and honest, even slightly vulnerable statement. He's only ever come to be in contact with the Iwatobi tribe if he was flanking Rin somewhere. Worse still were the times Rin invited them to their shared dorm back during first year and Ai, beside himself, managed to be waylaid. It was hard to feel he had a leg to stand on when all of their combined smiles could light up a whole city. It simply wasn't his place. Knowing Rin's situation though, Ai knows it would be a tall order to seek them out on his own at the moment - he has no way of knowing for sure, but he suspects Rin hasn't told any of his friends that he's back in the country, and Ai isn't eager to blow his cover.

He finishes pouring the teas, placing the kettle back onto it's base. Ai picks up Rin's mug and pads across the small kitchen space to hand it to him, "Here. Careful, it's hot." And waits for Rin to take it before rescinding himself and turning around to get his own mug.

He holds it close to his nose, waiting for the brew to become strong enough to drink. There's a calm silence in that moment; Ai is reticent to break it, but similarly is mindful to keep Rin out of his head.

"Did you sleep at all, senpai? Any dreams?" He wagers not, but.

[buttterfly]

Rin pauses, taking the cup from Ai wordlessly.

That would require Rin telling them he's here though, now wouldn't it? Makoto and Haru cozily located in this very city. Rei is off in Kyoto now, Rin thinks. Nagisa is...at Naribusawa? All close enough for it to matter though, right? Then there's that pause, as he wonders if anything would come off accusatory. why didn't you tell us sooner??? Well, politely put that would be because--

"Thanks." He cradles the cup in his hand, still firmly leaning against the wall. It's comfortable. He's too antsy to be on the futon right now, and he would hate to do something stupid and spill tea all over it. Ruin something else. He sighs.

"You should. They're always down for anything." Rin doesn't mention himself anywhere in that offer. Ai probably has their numbers, or ways to get them. Makoto is coaching Sousuke after all. There's the scantest sliver of distance between Rin being outed as being back in Japan, and everyone being blissfully unaware. He takes a too hot sip of the tea, relishing in the slight burn it leaves behind.

"Uhh. Can't say I slept much." He fumbles awkwardly, pulling himself out of that prior statement about his old band of swimmers, and shoving himself into this one as well. His dreams sucked, they always do. A far cry from the intensity they were when Rin was going through emotional shit miles high, and Ai had to watch his mess of a roommate everytime it so much as fucking sprinkled outside.

"It's fine. Might just skip my run later." Another sip. "What about you? Working today?"

[taeru]

It was a precipice Ai isn't so sure he wants to jump from without Rin being fully integrated back into his own friendgroup, on account of the current precarious nature of it all. Ai thinks he could likely meet up with Makoto at the very least and strike up something amicable without rocking the boat, but any of the others would definitely be begging to inconvenience Rin and overstep. Selfishly, Ai isn't so sure he could even look Haruka in the eye right now; hosting Rin here, knowing what Ai knows now, has stirred up all types of complicated feelings regarding the matter. The very last thing he'd want to do is get in the way of that in particular.

... And yet still. It might do him some good to at least talk to them..., is what Ai thinks.

"I'll see if Tachibana-san is free sometime soon."

There is a wall divider between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment, perpendicular to the wall Rin leans on; Ai leans against it with his shoulder, full-on slump, and his ankles cross down on the floor too. He judges the steam pluming from his tea to still be too much for the roof of his mouth, so continues to wait until the temperature isn't quite as scalding.

"A morning shift, yes. And then swim meet later in the afternoon." He'd have a four-ish hour break between both to sneak in a nap or perhaps catch up on some study work. It's something Rin may have noticed, Ai's usual daily itinerary was pretty damn stacked, and often didn't leave much room for him to come back to the apartment until well into the evening, save for the days his schedule lines up to have a full day off. Eager to keep things light, Ai sighs and presses his head against the wall, splaying silver hair against it, "Well, it has to get done, so there's no sense complaining. If I time slower it's my own fault."

[buttterfly]

Rin doesn't comment on Ai only bringing up Makoto. And he knows exactly why. Or at least he thinks he does. And he tries to shove that thought aside, because he's not trying to cause waves. It was a slip of vulnerability, brought on by sheer exhaustion. He shouldn't have been talking shit about people. Ugh.

Rin takes another sip of tea, coughing a little. "Shit, sorry. Last thing you probably need is this, then."

This meaning of course an emotionally compromised roommate with storm trauma that keeps him up at all hours. They honestly don't spend a ton of time together, it's mostly Rin making his presence scarce here and training. Rin frowns at the times comment, shooting a look over at Ai.

"The hell it is. 'My own fault'. What the hell? Shift the blame where it's due at least." Oh, okay. Maybe he is in a little bit of a mood. Sleep deprivation again. Maybe there will be one night where he doesn't snap when he doesn't sleep. But he's so fucking tired. He's so fucking tired of these storms, those fucking emails, acting like this towards someone who has been nothing but kind to him. Rin bites his lip, and tosses his gaze back to the floor. Cleaning up his mess before it's even fully spilled out.

"Sorry." He spits out, trying to sound genuine but coming up empty. "Really. I'm just tired."

[taeru]

Ai listens, he really does. And his sympathy and often times empathy for Rin run deeply, persistently, and unceasingly like river rapids. But that is three times, three! in one mouth-full that Rin's put himself at the forefront of something that is singularly not his problem and not his fault, and it's Ai's turn to snap.

His eyebrows pinch and knit low on his lids and the look he tosses Rin is evenly cut between exhausted, pleading, and frustrated.

"Do you control the weather, Rin-senpai? I've been up for as long as you have. Not every single upset this side of the Pacific is because you happen to be in proximity to other people."

And then Ai relents, and he sighs, because he doesn't like getting snippy like this. In general, but especially not with Rin. He knows it isn't helpful! It's often the case that Ai is redirecting this exact kind of tonality. He just wants to be understood, but more than that--

"I wish that were the case. I wish I had something to be angry at you about. At least then I could say you encroached enough to warrant it." I miss you. I want you around. I miss our routine. All too loaded to string together coherently, and his tired, sleep-deprived brain doesn't even want to try. Rin was afraid of taking up space; Ai was afraid of overstepping boundaries. An unstoppable force and an immovable object.

He exhales, mussing up his hair with his palm. "Or, well. That's..." Sorry, too.

[buttterfly]

Rin was expecting it. He was expecting a sharp retort, or snap or something.

And that's exactly what he got.

It's the frostiest tone he's ever heard Ai take with him. And it's barbed and pointed. Ai is not some bumbling idiot. He is a human being. And just like the rest of the world, he can snap back when he's had enough. Something on Rin's face twists in response, his lip almost curling. His blood boils. It feels like all the taunts and jabs back in his second year at Samezuka.

Always looking for a fight. Always looking for another reason to keep the distance between himself and others. Ai was the only one who wedged himself under Rin's skin, and was able to keep some semblance of conversation going. Even when Rin snapped back seventy five percent of the time.

He grits his teeth as Ai immediately backs down. It's not what he wants. It's not the tooth and claw he's so used to with another unnameable person in this world. And he doesn't know how to respond. He wants Ai angry with him. Wants him to say this isn't going to work, and give Rin a week.

"You want something to be angry about?" Rin spits again, slamming his cup on the counter. Not hard enough to break, but enough to jolt the other phantom in this room with him. It's the only way they were ever able to break this cycle. In locker rooms, alleyways, Haru's fucking house--

"Fine."

He's overstepping. He knows it. He's teetering on the precipice of never being able to go back to what they were. But it's the only language he knows how to speak when he's like this. And it's achingly haunting. Rin closes the distance, fists the front of Ai's shirt, and drags him closer.

Maybe he hesitates for a moment. Maybe there's just a moment where he's torn by whatever look is in Ai's eyes. But he tosses the thought out the window as he shoves their mouths together, dragging Ai closer as he lets his back hit the wall. He's so exhausted he doesn't think he can fully support himself standing. Especially not now when everything feels dizzying. He hates himself. Rin hates himself fully and thoroughly.

But this is the only thing that ever felt right. Even if it's not the person it always felt right with.

[taeru]

Escalation was maybe on the table; he had enough experience with Rin's moods and could usually gauge to a level of accuracy how dire it'd get. Even if Ai himself was a little heated for once, other than being bone-tired, his head was still screwed on relatively straight. Rin's words drip with a dark, seething venom, and even as he slams his mug on the counter top, Ai assumes it all to be pointing inward; he's already preparing to have to talk Rin down, bring him back to base line.

Rin yanks him forward so sharply Ai loses his grip on his mug, and the porcelain shatters against the tiled kitchen floor.

He doesn't know what to expect; all he knows is Rin's just manhandled him, and Rin would never. Has never reached this point of fury with or in front of Ai. But this Ai thinks he can handle, and so the first shade across his countenance is a pure shock.

And then Rin hesitates. And Ai calculates, realizes. And in the flash before all of Rin devours his periphery, fear wrings itself into the lines of his face.

There's a scramble, mentally and physically; one hand lands solidly right above Rin's shoulder to catch his own weight as Rin collapses against the wall, and the other has traitorously, unconsciously furled tightly in the collar of Rin's shirt, paradoxically pulling him closer. He had always imagined Rin's lips to be warm, hot, and ravenous; Ai's lost count of the number of times he's played a crossing like this in his head, over and over again. So why does he feel so god damned cold?

He matches Rin in a furious, righteous fever pitch at first. By the time he's sucked Rin's bottom lip between both of his own, Ai's already buffed out his own harsh edges; he has to. One of them has to. His white-knuckled grip on Rin's shirt loosens, and his palm travels the contour of Rin's collar bone and nape with a trepidation so deeply unsettling and foreign it's hard to tell which part of all of this has his blood running white-hot, thrumming under his veins in such vicious waves he might drown. He feels sick for wanting more of it.

The way he kisses Rin, then, is almost pathetic in how vulnerable it is; how soft it is.

"Does this make you better?"

[buttterfly]

The rain pounds harder against the glass. And Rin can't even hear it through all the noise.

The shatter of porcelain. The gasp from someone that slips between their slotted mouths. The thuds against the wall. Rin smirks to himself. Where's Ai's smart mouth about his neighbors now? Throwing small pocket books against the wall doesn't fly, but bodies slamming into walls is another story entirely. He's drinking everything in, trying to deepen it way too fast. His breath hitches when Ai's palm coats his collar, rips a shiver straight out of him.

Because then it's painstakingly soft. And that just fans the flames more.

Rin yanks his mouth away, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He doesn't answer right away, desperately sucking in air, his lungs burning. Coupled with the intensity, it's like going breathless in a 50m. Does this make you better? He almost laughs. Cohesive thought has long since melted away, only leaving whatever this husk is in its wake. What makes anything better?

His fingers are still tight in the front of Ai's shirt. And so he preys on vulnerability, arching his chest against Ai's hand with a small noise, sucked in behind his teeth. Rin knows he has a body that makes people stare sometimes. He knew how to use it with Haru. He can use it with other people too. Ai didn't shove him away right away, bite his lip, punch him, hit him, so--

"You think people do it for anything else?" He leans in, letting his lips flutter across Ai's with every punctuated word. Before diving back in, immediately dragging his tongue across the seam of Ai's lips with a punched out noise.

[taeru]

His pulse thrums so loudly between his ears he can barely even hear Rin's retort. Barely registers the slant there for a moment. Ai is caught in the tempest, which may have been Rin's outset; to prove a point. To attain means to an end. Unfortunately for the both of them, Ai was only human. He tried to be good and tried to do right, but for the first time in their mutual lives, Rin has forced his hand and made it feel borderline impossible for Ai to choose the high road.

He is selfish. And if this is the only way Rin would come to kiss him, to touch him, to want him in any capacity, then Ai is selfish and desperate and self-flagellating enough to take it.

For a moment he's barely responding; he's processing. Figuring out the feet on which he's standing so he knows how to appropriately berate himself later. Negotiating with himself what part of this could be emotionally, morally slightly less tenuous so as to convince himself he's still acting in Rin's interest. And-- well.

You think people do it for anything else? The words finally register in Ai's mental chasm; his palm finally twitches back to life, feeling Rin arching his chest to encourage its touch, eliciting a shuddered breath from Ai. Finally engages with his lips after his false start. Ai surges forward all at once; both hands clamber up into Rin's hair, one cupping the back of his jaw and strands of crimson between his fingers, the other weaseling between Rin's head and the wall to take a fist-full of his hair and tug. It's a desperate, needy move; his tongue roams over Rin's, laps at his bottom lip, starved.

"I can think of a few reasons." Ai rolls his body forward, chest-to-chest. His thigh hikes between Rin's, and Ai's hand flexes in his hair. It isn't a command; it's a beckon. Come to me. Let me show you what love takes from us when it's had its way. Ai resolves to meet Rin, but not with claws; not with hate, anger, hurt. But with a prostrate devotion. Resolute to throw his heart down onto the tile amongst the porcelain too if he can prove to Rin that there is so much more than this.

[buttterfly]

Ai finally--finally--surges up to meet him. And it knocks any cohesive thought right out of him. There's no trickles of storms and boats and eyes too blue for this world. All he can focus on is those fingers tight against his scalp, dragging him closer, that tongue carefully matching the ministrations of his own. And Rin fucking whines.

Deep down, there's some blurred haze that yes, this is exactly what he was talking about in second year. Ai has always had the volition and versatility to do whatever he puts his mind to. It's why Rin made him the Samezuka Captain in his stead. It's why Ai is diligently lapping at Rin's bottom lip like he was made for it.

Rin hears the words, and it just rips another noise out of him. Something desperate and bubbling to the surface. His hips jerk at the leg suddenly between his own. Because Ai is just a siren's call now, beckoning Rin in. And he can't refuse. Not when his sleep addled brain is so festered with misery and rain. Ai's offering him the out he's been craving for months now. The thing that jerking off in your roommate's shower will never quite stand up against.

Instead, he easily parts his legs, sinking down onto Ai's thigh with a shuddering gasp, and grinds against it. Just for a moment just enough to feel that friction that makes everything feel like it's on fire. He's quick to abandon the hold he has on Ai's shirt, moving to drape his arms around Ai's neck and drag him in closer.

[taeru]

A low, heavy groan tears itself up from the depths of Ai's throat when he feels Rin sink his weight down against Ai's thigh, chasing the obvious friction; already seeing Rin so desperate for the raft Ai is trying to throw him. He's hungry, too; wants to indulge on that which he's neglected himself of for four fucking years. Sitting on his hands obediently, denying his deepest sentiments nobly. Excuse after excuse for never pursuing, never rocking the boat, never changing. Maybe Rin had been right earlier, after all. Maybe it's worth it despite it all.

His hands and lips both begin to wander; lips heady at the corner of Rin's, and then his jaw, kissing a roving line of heat to behind his ear, and then his nape, and then his jugular. Their slight height difference gives Ai a minor advantage, making it incredibly easy to nip at the prominent line of the vein against Rin's skin by simply nosing at Rin's jaw to get him to expose it. His hands meanwhile both fall down to Rin's hips, greedy in the way they grip him, fingertips curling into the fabric of his sleep pants where they hug him there. One of his hands goes rogue; it climbs up the line of Rin's abdomen and belly, under the hem of his shirt, his touch slow yet heavy.

The way he touches Rin, maps his body and lips is almost meticulous. It is as much seeking to stimulate Rin, get him out of his head and present in his body, as it is feeding Ai's desires - as if he is making up for lost time. He breathes hot and desperate back up against Rin's lips before nosing far too gently, sweetly against his cheek.

"Not here," Ai murmurs, referring to the kitchen and its current disarray, "You'll hurt yourself." The hand on Rin's hip slides to his lower back, encouraging him off the wall.

[buttterfly]

Ai's mouth and hands are everywhere all at once. Rin hisses when his mouth drops to his neck, obediently tipping his head whatever way he can. He jolts at the kiss behind his ear, his stomach arching into Ai's hand with a shallow whine. It's like Ai is mapping Rin out, inch by inch, meticulously carving out every detail in his head.

It's not the outcome Rin was anticipating. But he's too strung along in whatever this is to care.

Because it's evident by Ai's breath rolling against his mouth that he's into whatever this is equally. Ai was the one who said friends with benefits was something he had already indulged in. What was another one of those? If Ai and Sousuke could get down and dirty through the stress of high school exams, nationals, whatever--then Rin and Ai could with whatever mental chaos Rin is currently tangled in.

Except the touch is almost sweet in the way it lingers. Rin grits his teeth at the tender way Ai presses against his cheek, and tosses his gaze to the side, fingers digging into Ai's hair as he pants. But what if Rin wants to hurt himself? Feel that slip of porcelain digging into his skin, making him bleed everywhere? He almost craves it. So much so he fucking whines when Ai's hand is on his back.

And all Rin can do in response is lean in to drag his teeth along Ai's earlobe, letting one hand drop to grab at Ai's pants and knock their hips together for a moment. He shudders and another heavy noise rolls out of him.

"You and Sousuke always do it in bed too?" He laughs heavily, pressing a wet kiss against Ai's neck, dragging his tongue along pale skin in the wake of it. He bumps their hips together again. "Precious."

[taeru]

Ai knows intrinsically and holistically this isn't what Rin expected and certainly not what he wanted. Ai refuses to indulge him in such a way; it was antithetical to the very core of their relationship, brushed against the pile of their foundation, and antithetical to how Ai functioned as a human being. He'd bite into, spill blood with, mark up Rin all he likes under any other circumstance, but not like this. Ai fundamentally could not meet Rin with that visceral, undulating fury; it wasn't in him. There were ways he could be broken, but this wasn't it.

"Nnh," he exhales in a hot shudder, Rin's teeth - the very same he's imagined claiming his body many, many times over - ghosting over the skin of his earlobe. Ai moans something indecent, though, when Rin presses them together; Ai's hand tightens its grip on Rin's hip, blunt fingernails carving shallow crescents into Rin's exposed skin just above his waistband as Ai rather unabashedly grinds back against him.

Similar to Rin, Ai's neck is fully prostrate for him the moment Rin's lips come against it, inviting him. It and the friction between their hips earn another heady breath out of him, but the tail end of that sigh is almost frustrated.

"Don't talk about Sousuke-senpai now," comes the heated mutter. Or anyone else for that matter. Both of his hands come to the sides of Rin's jaw to force him center again, taking his lips heavily; Ai nips Rin's top lip, and for a moment licks past his bottom, kissing into him. "This is nowhere near the same thing."

Ai tries again, hands dipping down the length of Rin's body. They're heavy and greedy in their touch, mapping him from the back of his shoulders and down his spine, wrinkling and dragging the fabric of his shirt with every inch descended. Both hands land on the globes of Rin's ass, where Ai again tries to encourage Rin off the wall, pulling forward, in so doing also forcing their hips together again.

[buttterfly]

He knows he's struck a nerve. Ai might refuse to indulge him in such a manner, but that doesn't stop him from letting things fester under his skin. Make Ai consider things in all manners. He's not here for soft. He's here for whatever tone just slipped past Ai's lips. Just like Rin weaseled his way into this situation, he can keep prodding the bear.

So to speak, at least.

Ai is licking into Rin's mouth again, and he presses back, with another pointed roll of his hips. The friction is dizzying, and Rin nips Ai's tongue in the process. He doesn't know where Ai intends to take him. Rin's futon, the shower, his bed. Rin cracks open one eye to take in the futon, and decides maybe there is best. Lest he sully Ai's memory of his own mattress once the inevitable kicking out happens after all this is over. It's fine. Rin can take it.

He arches and grinds into the lines of Ai, pulling off his mouth to drag his teeth along his bottom lip. Rin's expression is downright wicked. He swears somewhere he tastes blood, unsure and uncaring of who's it is at this point. He drops his hand a little further, pressing against Ai's ass to keep the friction between them more heated. He smirks.

"Sousuke-senpai. Cute that you still call him that, even talking about this lewd shit." Rin twists his fingers in Ai's hair, dropping his mouth to suck and nip a particularly dark spot against his neck. An angry looking brand. Something Rin can stare at. His dirty work, embodied into something so stark and angry looking. All while his words match his ministrations.

"I wonder if I call him that next, he'll toss me over a mattress too."

Ew. Rin very much does not want to sleep with his best friend, thanks. He and Sousuke are too familiar with one another in every capacity. But the words fan the flames, so to speak. And he's fine with lighting a fire under Ai to make that happen.

[taeru]

Rin's finally relenting, and so Ai walks himself backward out of the kitchen and keeps Rin close as he does so. Desperate as he is to get away from still-hot liquid and porcelain, he's also presently a slave to his senses, and can't seem to let himself depart Rin's touch for longer than a milisecond; every step backward is met with lips seeking out a new spot of skin to kiss, to nip. Hands shifting from Rin's ass to his back, his hips, the straps of his tank top to tug him ever closer.

"I call you Rin-senpai. It's respect." His tone is direct, and sharp, and a little breathless. Ai's eyes flash open, and his gaze is heavy. Trying so hard not to let himself be goaded and negged, but Rin is making it so hard to remain the responsible one. Despite himself, his frustration and his latent indignation, the way Rin marks him rips a moan straight out of his throat, eyebrows knit and head lolled back. For a moment he bites into his bottom lip harshly; it hurt, but it felt so god damn good.

His following exhale is an attempt at recollecting his coherency.

"And yet you came to me, so what does that say?"

He finally feels the back of his heel shift against the edge of Rin's futon. And feels his blood boiling hot, raising from his stomach up into his head like a geyser. With a force he didn't know himself to be capable of - a grip on Rin's shirt that yanks and jostles him so harshly Ai hears a seam snap - Ai doesn't so much encourage Rin down onto the futon as he does make it a point to get him down there and quickly; he's switched their positions so Rin's back is facing the futon, Ai pressing his entire body forward, suspending Rin by the straps of his tank top as if threatening to just let go. If he were a lesser person and had more muscle mass, he may have just thrown Rin down and been done with it.

[buttterfly]

There's the sting.

It's not just being dangled, like some fragile ragdoll. It's not the way his breath hitches at the action, or how the intensity in Ai's gaze surely mirrors Rin's own. It's those words. Etched into his bloodstream, with how fast his heart is slamming against his ribs. It's cardiac arrest how Ai knows precisely which buttons to press. Almost better than Rin knows himself.

His eyes are wide. Because it's true.

What does that say??

He told Sousuke after Ai, after moving in with him and crashing on his floor. Sousuke didn't make any special commentary towards it. But he knew to stop asking about Australia enough that he had an inkling. Maybe there was even a light offer once or twice for Rin to stay with him. But Rin wouldn't have any part in that. Living with Sousuke and his brother sounded like a fucking horrible idea. So many questions he wasn't prepared for.

And he thought he might escape them here too. What a fucking joke. Maybe then he wouldn't be being strung along to his futon, dangling over it with Ai leering into him like a fucking predator. Rin grits his teeth, one hand flying to Ai's wrist, nails punctuating with a dig into that tender flesh around his pulsepoint.

"Is that what you think?"

Rin laughs, such a deprecating thing to slip past him. He ventures to say that fucking name for the first time in weeks. Rin tries to yank at Ai's shirt, dragging him closer, closing that distance, wanting the mattress to swallow him whole and suffocate him at this point.

"You think if I scream his name, you'll still come?" Rin is desperate for some touch, somewhere--anywhere. And so he feeds into this fucking mess he's created with a punctuated moan. Something he knows will linger, and he stares Ai right in the face to see that when it comes.

"Sou-senpai," He whines first, accentuating on that little hitch in Sousuke's name. But the next one is just downright cruel. He knows it. He does it anyways. All breathy and moaning and punctuated around the thick syllables coating his tongue. "Ha-ruka."

[taeru]

He was an idiot for thinking Rin would play fair. He was angry, but not spiteful - why would he be? Ai's worst sin was sparing him too much clemency. Weaseling under his skin.

There is so much that is said in what isn't, the silence flanking the words that drip off Rin's tongue like acid. He might not know everything, but he knows enough to identify and exploit Ai's bigger insecurities. Ai thinks Rin even looks and sounds proud of himself, too, as if finding Ai's weak spot was some grandiose achievement.

His movement feels like molasses as he settles between Rin's legs, shifting forward to force Rin's thighs up and over his own. Ai isn't looking at Rin as much as through him, mind momentarily wiped blank as if shutting down the whole system might prevent further decay.

Truthfully? He wants to cry. Scream, even. Break a second mug, this time on purpose. Rin may catch the flash of genuine vulnerability and hurt in the immediate wake after his needling. But then Ai feels it again, the slow, rumbling boil of his blood, culminating low in his guttural pit before spewing up the length of his spine and his throat and to his extremities. Rin has failed to calculate for Ai's simultaneous best and worst trait: his endurance. And he'd sooner fuck the smirk off Rin's face before letting him think for a second he's gotten the rise out of Ai he thinks he wants. Ai could handle worse than this.

One hand smooths over Rin's thigh; the other, for only a fleeting and feather-light moment, ghosts over the silhouette of his groin. Then both hands hold Rin's hips, keeping him steady as Ai grinds his hips forward, rhythmic and slow and nowhere near the fever pitch he knows Rin wants. Ai still had a point to make. His eyes fixate on Rin's stomach, exposed by his shirt having ridden up a little; Ai can't bring himself to look Rin in the eye anymore.

"You can call me whatever you'd like."

[buttterfly]

It’s not like Rin is completely oblivious to his nature. His utter talent in causing himself and those around him misfortune in these tumultuous times. He takes in AI’s expression behind narrowed eyes, and funneled irises.

Because Ai doesn’t give in. And maybe that’s the worst part. The hurt is there, but the rebuttal—the rise—is completely absent.

Rin bites his lip, focusing on AI’s half hidden expression, shadowed behind him staring at Rin’s stomach. Maybe there’s a flutter of regret. Or maybe it’s anger that Ai isn’t rising to his bait. Instead just manhandling him into a more pliant position, rolling their hips together. Rin scoffs, damn near biting through his tongue.

Ai just says that equally horrible thing. And it serves Rin right. He glares at Ai, reaching to tangle his fingers in AI’s hair and forcing his gaze up back towards him.

”Whatever.” He huffs, a tone similar to a child not getting his way. Because Ai just rolls his hips infuriatingly well again, and that pulls another moan from Rin’s lips. He tries hooking a leg around Ai to drag him closer.

[taeru]

He exhales harshly at Rin's strong hand in his hair again, forcing his gaze; Ai catches it, as much as he doesn't want to. There's a determination in his eyes, but it's heavy and almost hollow, almost like a sick martyrdom.

Leaning forward like this, he lets go of Rin's hips with one of his hands to cup the side of Rin's jaw instead, knuckles against the mattress and helping a bit to support the center of his body weight. His hands slide back into Rin's hair, and as he does, he kisses Rin again. It's hard; voracious. As if mutually choking on tongues might shut Rin up long enough for Ai to regain his emotional composure, to be where his body is again, and not somewhere miles away. It's also a convenient excuse not to have to meet his gaze, either.

A soft moan is exhaled hotly directly onto Rin's tongue, feeling the way he hooks his leg around Ai; his fingers tighten in Rin's hair, strongly fisting red strands at the base of Rin's neck, shamelessly slotting their bodies together such that even through the fabric between them, Ai can still feel their cocks rutting against one another. It's a hot, delicious warmth, a heat that can go toe-to-toe with the other much less impressive, much more pathetic heat - of shame, hurt, weakness, and rebound - that keeps threatening to spill forth from his core, over and over.

Would he suck you off? Would he bend you over? Would you retaliate? Ah, I can't stand this. He tried so god damn hard not to think about Haruka, or even Sousuke, but Rin's planted that seed, and now Ai is trying desperately to outrun his own insecurities and is losing. Frustrated with himself; none of this is enough, suddenly. He kisses the underside of Rin's jaw, and then bites as he slips his hand under the hem of Rin's sleep pants.

[buttterfly]

Tenderness is something foreign. It’s not like Haru was never nice to him. But what words and laps in the pool couldn’t solve, sex could.

Ai is infuriatingly tender. Something Rin doesn’t deserve. Especially not now. Rin shivers under the brush against his jaw, before Ai’s mouth shuts him up. Rin whines against the slide of Ai’s tongue, sucking it down as far as he can.

His hips buck up against Ai’s, eagerly grinding their cocks together. The chafe and drag of fabric against them makes him moan.

The teeth in his neck rip a gasp out of him. Something so gut wrenching, he arches his neck, fingers digging into Ai’s scalp. Keeping his mouth there. His neck is arguably one of the most sensitive spaces on him.

But Ai has his hand under Rin’s pants now, and his hips buck. Ai’s hand feels cold, but it’s exactly what he needs. Rin bites his lip, shuddering.

”Shit—“

He hates how he sounds. Hates how needy his body is for something so venomous and dripping. He can’t help it though. It’s all he knows how to do.

[taeru]

There is at least one emotion that isn't complicated among all of this, and it is the pride he feels at eliciting noises like that out of Rin. Even after all the dust has settled, regardless of how many pieces he'll have to pick up off the floor, he will at least have this one unanimously good memory he can tuck away in his mental locket later.

He laps at the pluming red mark he's left at the juncture of Rin's nape and his jaw, swallowing down a vaguely copper taste. He's conscientious like that, planting it where Rin's hair can easily obfuscate it, even if Rin presently didn't have much company to hide it from anyway. With Rin's grip on his hair Ai can't shift too much, but he can trail down Rin's neck, and he's eager to besides - they both shared this sensitivity, and it turns out Ai likes giving it as much as he does receiving it. The bites and nips that follow are softer, not meant to last; they won't turn purple and yellow in an hour's time, they will be gone before the sun sets again. But they're each little vents of Ai's messed up feelings, every bit as impermanent and easily shrugged off as he feels he is.

Lithe fingers trace down the bare skin of Rin's pelvis and the defined musculature of his upper inner thigh; it's smooth, yet firm. An athlete's build, and it causes Ai's cock to twitch in his own pants, breath exhaled in a heavy lilt at coming so close to Rin. Circumstance and context be damned, it still shot a thrill through his entire system.

Ai turns his wrist up and palms full-bodied along Rin's shaft, less stroking him as much as he's kneading him, base to tip. Drawing more of Rin out, and more of those little noises too. It's in a set rhythm, slow and unhurried, matching that of the way he is still grinding against him too, even if the friction is presently lost on account of his hand in the way.

He mumbles against Rin's neck, "You feel good. I want to see you, too." He subconsciously does not even address Rin by name, even though he normally would. Whether a sensitivity thanks to Rin's taunting or an unintentional decision to leave enough room for Rin to project without a 'senpai' ruining it is anyone's guess.

[buttterfly]

There's a certain affinity for praising phrases. Rin stares up at the ceiling as Ai whispers against his neck. Both legs slam around Ai's waist, he doesn't know what else to do but that and whine uncontrollably.

His hips buck against Ai's touch, every array of curse in english slipping out past his lips. He finally lets go of Ai's hair, hands dragging down the back of his neck. Pointedly raking his nails down just a little bit.

Just a little payback for that praising comment that makes him so fucking hard he can't think straight.

"Fuck, Ai--" It's awkward. But he feels awkward and stupid just sitting here, letting Ai do all the dirty work. Much as he appreciates it, Rin begins to squirm underneath him, slowly dragging his body downwards. His hand squeezes Ai's ass for a quick moment before snaking back around. It's awkward, and stupid and he pushes Ai's shirt up a little, dragging his tongue down his stomach as he scooches himself further down.

Giving head sounds great right now. Gives him something to do. Chokes him out a little. Everyone wins. Rin smirks as he tries fumbling with Ai's belt.

"Wanna show me how good you feel?"