He wants to bite out that he doesn't deserve the consideration or niceties. The tender touch against his thigh, or the anguishingly slow stroke of his cock. Rin curses under his breath, his body betraying him as he grabs onto Ai, dragging him closer.
His leg moves up, his hips bucking with another unbridled shudder. He instinctively wraps his free leg around Ai again, pulling him closer. All while his fingers dig into Ai's scalp. Because that unsung confidence is doing something to him. Something that Rin hates.
There's some eagerness for it, the way that finger presses against him so seamlessly. Rin gasps, and he bites his lip. This wasn't meant to be sexy, the way Ai embodies just acting like he knows it all. He looks at Ai from a hooded gaze, tilting his head back to give the access to his neck. He lets slip another curse in slurred english, his body sucking Ai's finger in.
"Ai--" He hisses, digging his nails into his scalp a little harder. That wet slip of tongue against his neck does wicked things to him. Fuck anyone who's ever said Ai is some meek little nobody. Maybe Rin should bring this up at some point to Sousuke. He swallows that thought down as quickly as it flares up, he thinks as he grits his teeth.
Confidence was all he had in his wheelhouse at the moment, and even that was going to be on short supply relatively soon. This much he was familiar with, had fun with, the sheer amount of fantasizing he's done about the man underneath him pairing very well with the relatively few times he and Sousuke had tried. He'd spend another three, four hours mapping Rin's body for every single damned inch of his skin if given the chance. He may not meet the emotional need, certainly doesn't meet the heat, but the sex? Ai can do that. Rin's made it a point to illustrate without words that was the end goal, anyway, and Ai understood the assignment implicitly.
Hearing Rin moan his name makes his cock twitch, and he's huddled close enough to Rin that he can likely feel that right against his thigh. Ai had told himself not to take up more space than necessary, to give Rin the room to mentally escape, but with the syllable of his name on Rin's lips after all--
"Senpai," he exhales thick against the prominent expanse of Rin's neck, mouth open and teeth flush against his flesh as he wordlessly and without warning slides in a second finger. Expects Rin to take it; knows that he can. Keeps his palm up and his fingertips curled and splayed inside of him, prepping as much as coaxing, "It's no good. Already, I--"
Ai straightens his elbow supporting his weight, hollows out his back to hover over Rin, and lowers his head against the shell of his ear.
He's complicit in whatever ministration Ai has him locked up in. The shudder of breath exhaled against his ear, coupled with the second finger slipping in to join the first. Rin isn't a slut by any means, but he's familiar enough with his own body (and recently) that the task isn't exactly hard. He opens up easy for the second finger, sinking his hips to meet Ai's carefully curling fingers.
Senpai. Something about how Ai says it unfurls something in him. His nails surely leave little crescents in Ai's scalp, as he yanks him closer, already whispering against his ear. But then Ai fucking Nitori has to go and say something like that.
And Rin's mind wipes clean.
Haru was never versed in dirty talk. If he was in a foul enough mood or riled up enough, sure it would slip out easily enough. But that was more Rin's forte. And he realizes he likes being on the receiving end of it. Very much so. Rin's breath stutters, as he yanks Ai closer. He meets Ai's mouth in a bruising fashion, a whine fresh on his lips as he tries to crawl underneath his roommate's skin by any means possible.
The noises spilling into Ai's mouth are sensually slutty, desperate in every fashion as he practically mewls and pushes himself back against that hand. It's not enough. It's too fast. And he knows it, but he slips a little demand against Ai's mouth to go faster, more, something, anything.
Something to feel throughout all this deprecation and misery. Something real. Something that will leave behind something he can actually feel besides a hollow emptiness. The one that screams you don't belong. Rin sinks his teeth into Ai's lip pleadingly.
Ai wasn't even trying to be erotic - it was his honest disposition. His sincerity and what of it he felt compelled and allowed to share with Rin under this context. Knowing he has found a power to work Rin up, Ai wanted to do exactly that, in spades, and wanted to make sure Rin knew it too. Wanted to convey in some way how badly Rin was wanted - even now, even after all of this. I want to make a mess of you. I want to see you come undone. I want you to feel good.
I want you to know it was all me.
He groans feeling Rin's nails scrape at his scalp again, his vice grip spurring Ai on. He can't take it anymore either; Rin sucks him in so greedily, and is writhing like that, moaning against him like that-- it puts Ai very firmly at the end of his physical rope. He wants to be so patient, go so slow. Wants to treat Rin right - and he will - and wants to make this something worth remembering for more than just heartbreak--
It is as if his lips are trying to melt into Rin's; as if it were physically possible to sink down into him, absorb into him in one heated pile. Rin biting his lip and drawing a spec of blood was the last snap of his patience. He sucks in a harsh breath against Rin, and then leans back only enough to be able to look down at him. Finally seeks out his eyes, and in Ai's own, that ghost of something from earlier presently completely overshadowed by his arousal and determination.
He is kissing Rin sweetly, as if begging with him to just wait a little bit longer; slides his fingers out, trails his sullied hand up Rin's thigh, over his stomach. To his hip. Mutters against his lips with knit brows and a lascivious sigh, "Turn over."
He practically yanks his mouth away, as he scrabbles himself over. This is what he wants. To be treated like something to be used, face pushed down in the pillows to muffle any sullying sounds from escaping him. His tank top is all twisted and bunched up in all the wrong places, but Rin doesn't even care.
Because all Rin can hear is the static, buzzing with that tone Ai has been taking with him since this messy encounter began. It pounds in his head. As he situates himself on the futon, ass up and face buried in his arms against the pillow, Rin thinks how easy. How easy it would be to just accidentally bump a few things on his phone, record a nice voice message of Rin getting fucking railed right now and let that be his response to everyone's good luck emails?
He won't. But the thought is tempting enough. It's enough to make the blood pound in his head, and he whines a little, trying to push himself back against Ai while he pushes his face in the pillow. Desperate for something, anything. He shivers, feeling cold like this. Just waiting, clenching around nothing and desperate for his own self ridicule to resume.
"Hurry up." He hisses softly, his tone lacking any sort of bite for once. Maybe it sounds small more than anything. He just wants Ai to get off, to kick him out, to make Rin feel full and alive even if it doesn't get him off too.
What is green to one is blue to another. And what to Rin is a empty throwaway is to Ai his last chance.
Rin prostrate before him, Ai doesn't hesitate to pour generous slick over his cock, warming it over his skin with a hiss. Stroking himself close to Rin's body, his knuckles grazing the mound of Rin's ass, splayed and presented before him. It's the first time since their encounter started that Ai's confidence finally wavers; he had nothing to back this up. Uncharted territory. Only fleeting mental images supplied by unmentionables and a very active imagination, and a will that is currently shaky at best. But he has to, and not only that, he wants to.
His hand smooths over one of Rin's ass cheeks, feeling the taut yet plush skin under his palm; spreads him apart, exposes his taut entrance. Ai rocks his hips forward against him there, spreading the lubricant further over Rin's hole. So much he could say; none that actually reaches his lips. Carefully, Ai aligns himself and pushes in.
It's slow goings; an inch, and then a shallow thrust. Another inch. Half-seated and he's finally leaning over Rin, hissing through grit teeth. It's an unspeakable, tight warmth, mouth agape and rounded on a moan that remains lodged in the back of his throat. His hands migrate to Rin's body as he bottoms out; one smoothing down Rin's spine, to his lower back. The other snakes around Rin's front, pulling him up; forcing Rin's middle back to Ai's chest.
He breathes hot against the back of Rin's nape, eyebrows tangled in a furious knot. The hand across Rin's torso clings to him desperately; his palm and fingernails dig for purchase, first on Rin's shoulder, then down over his chest.
Cheek pressed against Rin's shoulder blades, Ai finds his pace; slowly, at first. Fucking into Rin with full-bodied, measured, rolling movements meant to acclimate them both. "Rin-senpai," comes a hot and desperate exhale against a knob of Rin's spine. Rin gathered against him as if Ai were willing their bodies to commit nuclear fusion as he finally snaps his hips forward. And again. And again, and again--
It's better this way. He doesn't have to look, simply put.
It's easy to gaslight yourself into another plane of existence when someone has you bent over, draped over you. It's easy enough to focalize only on that raw, carnal pleasure being built up between two bodies. Something you can only get with somebody else. He can almost trick his body into thinking it's someone else. Except he doesn't. Not really, at least.
It's easy enough to think about past experiences, draw comparisons. It's hard when the person touching you is so meticulous and indulgent in what he thinks your body wants and needs. Rin whines as Ai begins to sink into him, his hands roving Rin's body like he was searching for something to hold, something to ground them both.
Rin stubbornly refuses to fall into that trap, pushing his body back. The prep wasn't near enough with the pace they're setting. And Rin doesn't even care. It's a slew of unbridled noises spilling from his lips, intensified by the way Ai says his name like that. Like it actually means something.
That hot sting pools in the corners of his eyes. Pain and pleasure misfiring from all direction, his body contorting in a whirlwind. He doesn't know whether to sob, or scream, or moan. All he can do is push back to meet each of Ai's thrusts, that steady slap of skin echoing throughout the room.
His fingers practically tear through his borrowed sheets, the ones he's always considerately kept so clean and pristine before now. Just sullied by each drag of his beading cock against the fabric. His knees ache, his knuckles creak. Rin just wants to bite into his pillow to muffle whatever stupid noises are being punched out of him.
Instead all he can muster is some choked off whine.
Ai is familiar enough with the burn of going too fast, recognizes it in the way Rin's body hugs his cock like a vice, paired with the noises spilling from Rin's lips. As if he's trying to match a million emotions at once. He'd go slower, apologize - are you hurt? I'm so sorry! - except he knows that if he's historically been able to push past it, to indulge in it, he knows for a fact tenacious, determined, currently emotionally compromised Rin could, too.
It brushes against his instinct for only a moment, but he doesn't lose his pace; thinks to what feels good, what his body intuits. Rin's heat is addictive and the way he moans even moreso, causing lilted sighs and harder, longer groans to waft themselves over the back of Rin's neck and spine.
"Ah, god," he exhales thick again, arm flexing to keep Rin close against him; his other hand snakes away from Rin's lower back, curls under his front. Down his stomach and to Rin's cock, where Ai ruts his eyes closed and does his best to stroke Rin off at the same fast, unapologetic tempo as his hips. "Rin-senpai," he moans again, mind mostly blank other than the name of the man underneath him. He laps at Rin's shoulder; grazes his teeth against him, "Feels-- good. You feel good." Presses his cheek again as he thrusts harder, longer. Shockwaves of heat overwhelm his body, but Ai's priority is nowhere near getting himself off -it's all Rin. What's left behind when it's had its way.
He instinctively wraps his hand around Ai's fisted over his cock.
"You've-- got a fucking way with words."
He almost laughs, completely unsure if it's mocking or teasing. He doesn't know up from down at this point. There's some emptiness in the realization that this is exactly what he wanted. A quick and rough fuck into the mattress, proving he's of little good other than being a cock sleeve.
Well, everyone has their talents he supposes.
There's jolts everywhere Ai touches. His skin jumps and tremors under the hot breaths, the hips slamming against his skin. Overstimulation is already running rampant and he hasn't even come yet. Ai's cock catches against that particular spot, and he chokes against the pillow, his fingers tightening around Ai's. It's the only semblance of control he has like this, the only way to measure his worth.
Eventually, his body begins to accommodate the abysmal prepwork and hips snapping against the back of his own. He faintly tastes blood, he wonders if its from his own lip or the vicious lip locks they've partaken in. Rin's noises are unbridled, slipping out and bubbling up like he's not holding them back at all.
Things begin to blur, that familiar tension coiling in his lower gut. Rin whines, pressing his face into the pillow, effectively smothering his pitiful noises. It hurts. It feels good. His head is spinning. His body is aching. Everything is threatening to burst. Some muffled semblance of Ai's name, or maybe someone else's, is spat against the pillow as Ai continues thrusting against the spot that makes his toes curl.
If only he knew how badly, how sorely Ai wanted to kiss and touch upon him as if he were molten gold. To show him there was no fear in being vulnerable; that an exposed heart warrants reward. That love doesn't have to hurt. But Ai is a hypocrite, pinned between a duty and a fear, and is selfish, but isn't selfish enough to renege on what Rin's plainly asked of him. Isn't brave enough to do the exact thing for himself he is trying to do for Rin, winding up in a half-measure.
I feel so useless.
He can feel Rin's body surge with what Ai suspects is a pulse of white heat; he knows the feeling. Keeps his hips such that he fucks into that spot over and over, so badly wanting to grant to Rin his relief. There's sweat on Ai's brow, face buried still against Rin's neck, his back, the back of his hair - anywhere Ai can touch. Though Rin's caught his working hand in a vice, his other scours up Rin's body, migrating from his hip to his lower back. Ai presses down there, encouraging Rin's chest further down; his hips further up. Bringing their bodies just a little bit closer.
Pressure builds in his core; he's close.
"Please," he exhales lowly, hand clawing up Rin's spine and over his shoulders and into his hair; Ai tugs his scalp, just enough to try and bring Rin's head out from where he's buried it in a pillow. So badly wants to kiss whatever he can reach - Rin's jaw, his chin, anything. "Please come. I want to hear you."
Maybe there's a little pushback against his own body. Traitorously fighting off orgasm, because he thinks he for some reason doesn't deserve it. All he wants is release, but he goaded someone he claimed to be a close friend into fucking him stupid. Just because he was pissed off. What right does he have?
But Ai is pressing encouraging kisses along whatever patch of skin he can reach, angling Rin's body just so. He practically spasms underneath the new angle, fingers digging into the sheets with an unbridled sob.
Is that what Ai's doing? Turning this into some sort of competition? Making Rin come first? He digs his heels in, trying to fight it off. But he's already hit that overstimulation shoving him right over the precipice he's been toeing for so long. Touch starved and confused. And so he tumbles over.
And not quietly either.
If it weren't for the rain and thunder looming outside, Rin is sure Ai would get a noise complaint. Because he near bites through his tongue trying to keep the noise back. It still bubbles up anyways, as he comes harder than he has in god knows how long. All because of that stupid tug at his scalp. His body clenches around Ai, his fingernails dig into Ai's hand. Everything whites out, his limbs feel numb, and he doesn't even know who's name he's moaning anymore. The room spins, and everything feels so incredibly heavy as he comes down from whatever this mess is.
Ai's body was just slower to react, stamina forever being his achilles' heel - even under this context. His first time with Rin, his first time giving. If he had it his way, if the world was kind, this wouldn't have been over so soon, and maybe he'd wait for Rin to bounce back for a round two to properly tire himself out. Try lavishing more of the attention on him that Rin seems to squarely reject.
Rin's orgasm is messy and dramatic and makes Ai's breath hitch in his throat. Again, Rin calls out to someone, but Ai can't make out who and for his own sake chooses not to listen too closely anymore. Only when he's certain that Rin's completely spent does Ai pull out, slowly so as not to leave Rin's body with more aches than he likely already has. Trying to be conscientious like that, even still.
Ai's eyelids are heavy as he jacks himself off right at the mound of Rin's hips. In comparison, his peak is much less overt - his voice hitches, the fingers on Rin's hips curl, a shudder runs down his spine. He paints himself over the crevice of Rin's ass and his lower back...
And the silence that falls is, for him, deafening. Rin wanted to be fucked right out of his emotions - now what? Was it overstepping or underperforming to assume aftercare? Does he run a shower for them both - surely not? It's only now, post-orgasm and post-circumstance, that Ai realizes neither of them even got naked. No more sounds of skin slapping against skin, no more moaning from Rin, no more of his own heavy breaths - Ai is now once again acutely in-tune with the bellowing in his own chest, reverberating between his ears.
He has one thought of clarity, which is the threat of guilt if he doesn't do something. Just to be present; it felt right. Ai shifts forward just enough to kiss the back of Rin's hair, nosing him there for a lengthy moment. Trying to etch into his memory the smell and how Rin's hair feels slicked with sweat. Then he's sitting up, almost reluctantly so, hand appreciatively smoothing down Rin's spine in a slow, repetitive motion.
"Are you alright?" he asks, quiet. Suddenly making noise felt like it might make something snap. Ai sits back on his haunches; kisses Rin's tailbone, then his outer thigh. And then Ai's hands fall down to the sides of Rin's legs, as if to give Rin the room to move however he pleases. "I'll-- Let me get you a cloth." Is he running away? Hard to tell. Ai rises to his feet. Addresses Rin but again can't look him in the eye, is instead suddenly self-conscious and tucking himself back into his pants and focusing on that, "Or I can run the shower for you."
Before he can retort, Ai is pulling out of him. And Rin fucking whines, trying to claw for something through his weakened state. No no no no no. This isn't what he wants. He can feel Ai's fingers branding him, but the sound and motions of him getting himself off. Something in Rin sinks, and he wants to vomit.
He isn't even good enough for Ai to get off in.
What a fucking joke.
Rin grimaces at the feeling of come painting his skin. He grits his teeth under it, and something searing boils in him. He feels so empty and miserable now. Ai just acts like he's being burned by touching Rin somehow, touches feather light and hesitant despite being reassuring. He already can feel the tears spilling.
He refuses to look back at Ai, just tugs his tank top down as much as he can to cover the mess and give himself a little dignity. Ai sounds like he's running, so Rin is just going to run too. He shakes his head, forehead against the pillow as he tries to wobble up onto his knees. Rin hisses at the pain coursing through his thighs. Oh yeah, he knew he would be paying for that later. And whatever mindset he's neck deep in is just intensifying it.
His hand slams against the wall next to the futon, as he hoists himself up. He continues to try to keep his tank top tugged down, it barely reaching halfway down his ass. He feels so fucking miserable and empty. He just wants to shower. He can't even look at Ai now. Crying like a girl after taking it up the ass.
"Fine. Just. Gonna shower."
Go figure. No wonder Haru didn't want to be with him. No wonder Ai just wanted to paint his back. No wonder Sousuke never made any move on him, but on Ai.
Rin is still so ice cold, and Ai is just-- beside himself. Whatever he does, he apparently does it wrong. Can't console Rin well enough, can't host him well enough, can't fuck him well enough, can't care for him well enough.
He feels frozen to the wooden floor as he watches Rin struggle to his feet, eyes glassing over.
"Senpai," Ai calls, unsure exactly what he did wrong or how to fix it but now resolute that just letting Rin saunter with a tear-stained face isn't the answer; Ai pads in front of him, places a hand on Rin's shoulder, trying to still him. Maybe just slow enough to help him walk over, Ai doesn't know - he feels compelled to get Rin's attention. To try. Again. Even if every part of him internally is barely held together by string and a wish. "You have to take it easy." You look terrible. You look worse. That's my fault.
He's a slave to himself, and catches Rin's eye, glassy and so far away. It causes his own to sting, a large lump suddenly pressing against the back of his tongue and throat. As if attempting to soothe - as if he could - he shifts his hand, thumbing over one of the many lighter love bites on Rin's neck.
"You could let me help." Mouth open, agape on words he can't find. After a false start he tries again, knowing in the back of his head Rin is at best not listening and at worst priming to tell him to shut up in no uncertain way, but he has to try, "Please. I-- enjoyed it, together. I don't want it to end badly. If this is how you need to look at me now, I want you to at least say you didn't regret it."
He wants to kiss Rin. Looks at his lips. Doesn't.
"-- So let me run you a shower. Or wash your back. Something." Quieter, "Please."
It's tempting to shove Ai away, figuratively and mentally. It's not like he deserves the kindness. He wants to laugh all this off, twist this into something where he can just call Ai that colorful f word and get his ass kicked to the street. He would never. But it's self harm on the highest level for him. Rin bites his lip, jerking underneath the gentle ministrations.
"I don't--"
Need help? Want help? Regret it?
He doesn't even know what answer he is trying to formulate. All he can do is shiver against the wall, feeling Ai press those soothing touches all over his neck. Rin knows he fucked up, he shouldn't have goaded Ai into sleeping with him. Not that Ai didn't consent to it. It would be hard to take it any other way, considering how marred Rin's skin is and how aching he's feeling. But he goaded him into this, he wanted this...
Rin shakes his head. Those gentle words remind him of their year rooming together. Too much kindness for someone who doesn't deserve it. Rin swallows around nothing. He can't stand that look covering Ai's face. Like Rin just monumentally fucked all of this up. He grits his teeth.
"...fine. We can. Shower." He's choking around words, trying to formulate the right ones. "Sorry. Just. Little out of it."
Ai looks at Rin long, trying not to let his concern cross his face but Ai's never been very good at hiding what he's feeling. In most circumstances, anyway. Rin at least has acquiesced, which is something, though it is Ai's instinct to immediately try to back pedal. We don't have to if you don't want to. I don't want to get in your way. It isn't that I don't trust you to do it on your own, I just worry. In a rare and profound moment of post-coitus self-awareness, Ai realizes that overthinking is at least partially what has gotten them in this situation to begin with, and if Rin didn't want him here, in any capacity, he could very easily just tell Ai to fuck off. But he hasn't.
"I can tell," he finally intones, voice a small coo and smile on his face that is no less tired than it would have been an hour ago. But for Rin, he tries; for his own sanity, he tries. Ai's palm slides down Rin's body, to Rin's hand; squeezes it softly, a feather-light touch, before guiding Rin away from the wall he's using for balance and encouraging him to follow and rely on Ai instead.
Traitorous thing, the engine in his chest; despite it all, it throbs painfully hard against his rib cage, finding that even now, even the smallest touch gives him goosebumps. He doesn't need to delude himself into thinking it'll last, knows that whatever happens tonight is in a capsule. It is the impermanence of it, he thinks - he suspects - that enables him to be bolder than he would under any other circumstance.
He walks backward toward the shower room. Pauses for a moment to shuck off his shirt, hands it to Rin. All too little too late now, but Rin may still feel indecent; Ai wants to do whatever he can to try and get those tears to stop. Show him he has someone in his corner, no matter the costs.
"I meant it at the time too, but." He's watching where he steps so as not to bump into anything, crossing the threshold into the shower room, "It really did feel good. You did." He clears his throat a little, "Sorry I was a bit eager." Is he filling space? Yes. He usually wouldn't; he was very good at letting him and Rin coexist in peaceful silence with the demons of Rin's mind among them. For once, his anxiety is threatening to get the better of him, and his mouth runs as a nervous filter.
It would be easy enough to scoff, shove all Ai's worries to the side with more aggression or whatever unhinged mating display he just put on. But maybe that will just intensify the problem at hand. The one where Rin's skin jumps under Ai's soothing touches, guiding him off like some damsel.
His throat tightens.
All throughout life, Rin has become a master of masks. It's just that time to don another one. A softening expression, playing into the role Ai is seeking out. The one that is fine. It's easy to shrink into yourself. It's even easier still to claw so deep inside yourself and press someone else on their feelings, that it's like yours never existed to begin with.
God, he's such a shitty friend. Rin just smiles at the compliment, a soft thing. He lets Ai fill the space, as much as he needs to. Keeping eyes streaked with tears and redness focused on him as they step into the shower together. Gingerly takes the shirt, and keeps it close to his chest. A kind gesture. Too kind.
"Glad you felt good."
He skirts around that Ai said Rin felt good as more of a follow up to 'it' feeling good. Which is fine. He tries to recreate whatever teasing facade they build up together that first night, before Rin inevitably messed that up too.
"That stamina is no joke." He laughs, that forced thing slipping from his lips before he turns around, keeping the shirt clutched close like it's something grounding. It is, but Rin can't pinpoint why. Maybe it's the small act of pity, or just something to dig his fingers into so tight. It spares his palms the blood at least.
Ai can tell Rin is just forcing himself at this point, and it leaves him beside himself. He's no longer all claws and teeth, and Ai gets the sinking feeling Rin is just putting up with him - too exasperated to even be angry anymore. Was Ai really that inconsequential after all?
He's probably numbed himself out, Ai thinks acutely, leaving Rin's body only long enough to get the water going; the shower room is quite typical of a Japanese apartment, the shower head able to reach the entirety of the room but with a designated, tall bathing basin attached to one half of the space. He's fantasized about being in there with Rin, too; being held close under a stream of water, or letting it lap at their knees and chins as Ai massaged him. All such a far cry from their reality, where Rin's clinging to his shirt in the mouth of the room and forcing himself to smile through tears after a round of sex Ai knows without a shadow of a doubt was only meant to salve.
Ai tries to smile too, just to match Rin. But it's apparently harder to even do that much when Rin himself isn't up to the task. Ai could handle teeth and claws; could handle anger. Could handle being taunted, having his earnest feelings torn down. Somehow, he can't handle this. He feels the back of his eyes beginning to burn; is quick to turn his back to Rin as he peels off his pants and underwear, momentarily pressing his palms to his eyes to will them to stay before standing up again, nude and as collected as he could be.
"You make it easy to want to keep going." The pause that follows is a wide, hollow berth. A yawning chasm threatening to drag Ai down by his ankles. He wasn't the one fucked into a futon, yet his entire body feels so sore and heavy. Sapped of his will, reality of it all collecting at their feet, Ai suddenly starts, mouth faster than his brain can process trying to stop it,
"Why did you--," only then catching up. Ai already knows the answer, doesn't have to ask it. He falls back from that precipice, turning to face Rin again, though still can't look him in the eye. Ai busies himself with getting a wash rag wet with suds, trying to pivot, "-- Sorry. Come here, let me wash your back."
It's quiet between the pitter patter of water dribbling down. He doesn't look back as he hears Ai dressing down, it's not like he hasn't seen it anyways. He's felt it practically gutting him, in fact. Besides that, they were roommates, teammates. Nothing they haven't seen a thousand times over.
You make it easy to want to keep going.
Rin wants to fucking laugh that it obviously isn't if Ai had to pull out to get off. But he doesn't say it, just keeping that thin smile on his face as he stumbles through stripping off his remaining article of clothing. It takes a minute, but he tosses Ai's shirt along with it, forgotten in some unnamed corner.
Rin jolts under the question. Flinches under the backpedal, as Ai tries to encroach on his space. Why did he what? There's a thousand questions lingering on the statement, each one more terrifying than the last. Rin bites his lip, turning his head away. But not before grabbing Ai's wrist, the one with the wash cloth. His grip is firm, but not malicious. Maybe more akin to a panicked confusion, dread.
"Why did I what?"
He dares to spit it out, unable to meet Ai's gaze. Why did you do that? Because everything fucking hurts, and he wanted the noise to stop. Why did you make me fuck you? Because Rin is lonely, and misses someone. He doesn't know. He tries to keep that smile on his face, still unable to meet Ai head on. A meek gesture, a demonstration that he's not threatening right now.
Because Rin remembers the panic in Ai's eyes before he kissed him. And it makes bile curl up his throat.
He's booking a surgery appointment tomorrow to sew his damn lips shut. Maybe double book and sneak in a lobotomy in too while he's at it.
It's a damn good thing Rin isn't looking at him because in the moment that follows Rin grabbing his wrist and demanding his question, Ai's eyes grow glassy. His lips contort around the threat of a sob, trying so hard to bite it back at the still-fresh memory. To his credit, he doesn't make a sound; the only wetness on his cheeks the splashback from the shower. There and gone, a fortified wall tossed up at rapid speed so he could remain as every bit as composed as Rin hasn't been.
Because he doesn't need to know why Rin did that; he knows why. Doesn't need to know why Rin wanted Ai to fuck him; Ai knows that, too. He shakes his head because he doesn't want to open this can of worms, but if Rin is insisting it out of him, it's the most clarity he's gotten from Rin since the moment Ai smashed his mug on the floor.
Ai could never be scared of Rin. Not really. Not even after all of this. What scares him the most are consequences; it's why he flinched then, and why his voice is sapped and quiet now.
"Why did you say their names?" Sou-senpai. Ha-ruka. The mocking lilt in Rin's voice still haunts him. The unspoken implications flanking his mockery eat at Ai from the inside.
His eyes widen, and he can't bear to whip around and look. It's gut wrenching and terrifying to think of what expression he might find there. Because Ai's voice is so quiet. And maybe that's when things slowly crumble into place. There's been inklings, sure but. Those words almost solidify that voice in the back of his head. And something in Rin crashes harder than ever before.
He lets go of Ai's wrist, his own dropping down in a clenched off fist. There's a million different responses to the question, each one worse than the last. Rin can't even swallow around the lump, thick in his throat. His teeth sink into his lip, as he fights down the wail his body so desperately wants to let out. What the actual fuck is wrong with him?
"Ai, I..." He pauses, can't even muster a sentence to start. What's easiest? The truth? Or is some fabrication that eases the pain better? He's taken advantage of Ai in every sense. Crashed on his floor, led him on, goaded him into fucking him, and just twisted around with cruelty to repay all the kindness and emotional fuck ups Rin has just inflicted on his friend. His eyes sting.
"...I'm sorry." What a piss poor excuse of an apology. His voice feels so hollow, so small. He tries to give the explanation Ai is desperately owed, and Rin doesn't even know if he can do that right. Pitiful. Ai had hurled something cruel back at Rin. It had been well deserved in the moment, and Rin just bit back with further cruelty, fueled by whatever mess he had started.
"It-- fuck. Look, I wanted you to be fucking angry. You were being so soft, and I." He stops, he can't--won't--reiterate on it. Because he thinks he knows now, and it makes him feel sick. Rin fucking Matsuoka. What a standup guy.
"I didn't want that. Sorry. Shit, I'm sorry."
Those tears spill over again, but he doesn't care. He deserves that sting.
Ai thinks he understands. It wasn't exactly personal. Maybe the fuel was, but the motive wasn't. It was hard to see it in the moment, too blind-sided by his own shackles, but now he thinks he gets it.
It still hurts. He isn't sure how much Rin has parsed out on his own but it's evidently enough for him to feel guilty, which makes Ai internally panic. Ai presses his fingers to the corner of his eye as if again trying to abate the sting.
"Rin-senpai, please." Despite it all, his beckon is to try and get Rin not to self-flagellate. "I get it." Rin wanted to hurt. He had Ai in front of him, and had to work with what he had. It was a low blow, but at least-- Ai isn't sure. At least it wasn't targeted. It wasn't on purpose. Would Rin have said any of it if he knew? Somehow, Ai thinks not. It was a catch 22.
"I'm not you." Quieter, voice betraying him a little with a hitch, "I'm not Nanase-san." He lifts his free hand to thumb away some of the tears pouring from Rin's eyes. Hesitates, but decides quietly, to hell with it all.
"I thought I could show you something different. I thought I could ease the hurt, maybe, just a little, in my own way. I knew it wasn't," and he gets stuck. Right there. I knew it wasn't me you wanted. He can't get the words out so he just tries again, "-- I knew what I was getting into. Yet I still tried... That's on me." The heat behind his eyes is painful; the void in his chest threatens to swallow him whole. So badly he wants to move past this.
"I can only meet you as me." Hell-- against his will, his eyebrows are knitting together, eye brimming. He turns his cheek and holds his free hand's knuckles to his nose and mouth, as if that'll stop the deluge. At the very least, his voice is steady, which is maybe the only saving grace in this entire circumstance, keeping him squarely at pathetic instead of descending fully into shameful. "That's all."
The gentleness of it is a low blow. Ai's hand, even now, still trying to soothe away whatever Rin caused. There's always been hesitancy to lean into tenderness. Especially the kind he brought crashing down on them both to begin with. The exhale is shaky, and he takes a step back. The hand on his face is too much. He can't breathe.
"I didn't want you to be you." He hisses, immediately trying to explain himself because--fuck--that comes out wrong. So wrong. It is cruel, and he can't even bear to look to see if Ai flinches under the words.
"I didn't mean it like that! I. I'm just a fucking wreck, okay? You were being so nice, and it felt fucking awful. I don't deserve it."
Rin chokes on the word. Everything feels like it's about to burst.
"I fucking goaded you into it. It's nobody's fault but mine." His fingers twitch, he wants to run. But he forces himself to stay put, even if he is so cowardly that he can't even meet Ai's gaze head on, can't help but burn underneath every compassionate touch Ai dolls onto him.
"You looked at me like--" Rin can't finish, biting his lip. "Even after I fucking threw that at you. You shouldn't be meeting me anywhere. Not like this. Fuck, I'm sorry." All he can think of is the cold way Haru let the sentence linger. The awkward flight back to Japan. It didn't even feel like he was sad, or hurt. Just done. That blankness followed him for so long, guttural. Then Ai comes diving after Rin and Rin was selfish enough to cling to it.
There was no reason to drag Sousuke or Haru into this fucking mess. But he did it. He'd said it all smirking and confidence thick in his words. A cheap shot.
"-- I know." Even though Rin corrects himself, no matter which way Rin slices it, Ai gets it.
It's that feeling again. A heat crawling up his spine, pressurizing in his gut, threatening to spew out of his esophagus and throat and mouth like a pressured geyser finally releasing itself of its steam. The same exact feeling he had before he'd held Rin to his words. The same exact feeling he had before Rin decided to cause a domino effect.
"I don't understand."
His diaphragm rises and falls with the deep inset of his breaths.
"I don't understand!"
Another voice crack, this time not from his deep and resonant sorrow, but from anger. About fifteen minutes too late, but--
"You move with your head screwed so loose your memory leaks out of your ears. Who gets to decide whether you deserve it or not? If someone chooses you, they did it for a reason!" His blunt fingers scrape against the skin of his chest, as if he might claw his heart out and shove it in Rin's face as proof. "You've no idea the impact you have on people. Because you assume the worst about yourself, so you assume the worst about the rest of us too. That isn't fair!"
He sniffs, once - it's a righteous fury, that noise. Indignant in the way he's staring right at Rin now, laid bare. "The only person who gets to decide how I feel is me." Palms pushing away at his eyes; his voice calms down, but his expression is twisted with his stubborn refusal to keep letting Rin get his way. "If I'm angry with you, if I," he can't. The words won't manifest on his tongue. He bites the inside of his lower lip, stubborn tenacity having racked his spine rod straight. "If you 'deserve' it. That's for me to decide. No one else. Not you."
Their voices crack in tune with the other. But his oozes with a bitter defensiveness. He finally whips around to face Ai. Unlike before, he keeps his hands to himself. He already trashed everything by touching once, he's not keen to make that mistake again. Why won't Ai hate him? Why does he feel like this? Who the fuck looks at someone like Rin, and decides that's what kind of person they want in their life? It's completely hypocritical to what Ai is telling him. But Rin can't shake it.
"Right, because people just wake up wanting to be like this." He spits, his fist shaking at his side. There's some sick, splitting feeling. He has no control here. And he doesn't know how to claw his way back into some semblance of it. Ai's just driving the knife in deeper. And Rin knows it's true.
"I assume the worst because you all fucking leave anyways."
Everything floods back to him. Crashes over him in waves, and Rin snarls the next retort. His head is pounding. Rin was never worth it to Sousuke to tell his big, deep secret. "Because you'll cry." Let alone politely inform Rin he was fucking their teammate. Ai obviously has been holding onto something deeper here, and Rin can't pinpoint why he never said it out loud. Haru... he shoves that thought away as quick as it forms.
Is any of this fixable at this point?
"One day people choose you, and the next--" His mouth slams shut. Haru's name burns in his throat, bile clambering around it. Rin chokes and holds Ai's tear stricken gaze.
"I just wanted to forget." His voice is eerily still. His mouth is drawn into something between a grimace and a sneer. It's all inward reflection at this point. How do you make somebody hate you so much, that they never want to reflect on you again? "What the fuck do you want from me? Psychoanalyzing every goddamn mistake. Newsflash, Nitori. I do that myself." It's a low blow.
Rin doesn't know what else to do. Except push, push, push. All instead of dealing with his own feelings because he doesn't even know how to touch this with a ten foot pole. He swallows, digging his fingernails into his wrist.
"What do you want? For me to admit I'm just some piece of shit who ruined the only good thing he had? Con-fucking-grats. You win. I'm your guy. 'If you' what huh? Wanna tell me why you pulled out? Not good enough to even come in?"
But then Rin shifts, and the words spilling from his mouth don't even carry a direct tone. They're so laced with bitterness and anger and frustration and guilt.
"If you fucking wanted something from me, why'd you wait until I was at my lowest to throw it in my face?" The insinuation on that last part is there. It's clear as day. Why did you never just tell me how you felt? "Or is it easier to watch me fall apart and feel righteous cleaning it all up? Fuck that."
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Date: 2025-07-23 03:16 am (UTC)His leg moves up, his hips bucking with another unbridled shudder. He instinctively wraps his free leg around Ai again, pulling him closer. All while his fingers dig into Ai's scalp. Because that unsung confidence is doing something to him. Something that Rin hates.
There's some eagerness for it, the way that finger presses against him so seamlessly. Rin gasps, and he bites his lip. This wasn't meant to be sexy, the way Ai embodies just acting like he knows it all. He looks at Ai from a hooded gaze, tilting his head back to give the access to his neck. He lets slip another curse in slurred english, his body sucking Ai's finger in.
"Ai--" He hisses, digging his nails into his scalp a little harder. That wet slip of tongue against his neck does wicked things to him. Fuck anyone who's ever said Ai is some meek little nobody. Maybe Rin should bring this up at some point to Sousuke. He swallows that thought down as quickly as it flares up, he thinks as he grits his teeth.
Ai is nothing to be ashamed of, sure. But Rin?
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Date: 2025-07-23 03:38 am (UTC)Hearing Rin moan his name makes his cock twitch, and he's huddled close enough to Rin that he can likely feel that right against his thigh. Ai had told himself not to take up more space than necessary, to give Rin the room to mentally escape, but with the syllable of his name on Rin's lips after all--
"Senpai," he exhales thick against the prominent expanse of Rin's neck, mouth open and teeth flush against his flesh as he wordlessly and without warning slides in a second finger. Expects Rin to take it; knows that he can. Keeps his palm up and his fingertips curled and splayed inside of him, prepping as much as coaxing, "It's no good. Already, I--"
Ai straightens his elbow supporting his weight, hollows out his back to hover over Rin, and lowers his head against the shell of his ear.
"-- I want to make a mess of you."
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Date: 2025-07-23 04:10 am (UTC)He's complicit in whatever ministration Ai has him locked up in. The shudder of breath exhaled against his ear, coupled with the second finger slipping in to join the first. Rin isn't a slut by any means, but he's familiar enough with his own body (and recently) that the task isn't exactly hard. He opens up easy for the second finger, sinking his hips to meet Ai's carefully curling fingers.
Senpai. Something about how Ai says it unfurls something in him. His nails surely leave little crescents in Ai's scalp, as he yanks him closer, already whispering against his ear. But then Ai fucking Nitori has to go and say something like that.
And Rin's mind wipes clean.
Haru was never versed in dirty talk. If he was in a foul enough mood or riled up enough, sure it would slip out easily enough. But that was more Rin's forte. And he realizes he likes being on the receiving end of it. Very much so. Rin's breath stutters, as he yanks Ai closer. He meets Ai's mouth in a bruising fashion, a whine fresh on his lips as he tries to crawl underneath his roommate's skin by any means possible.
The noises spilling into Ai's mouth are sensually slutty, desperate in every fashion as he practically mewls and pushes himself back against that hand. It's not enough. It's too fast. And he knows it, but he slips a little demand against Ai's mouth to go faster, more, something, anything.
Something to feel throughout all this deprecation and misery. Something real. Something that will leave behind something he can actually feel besides a hollow emptiness. The one that screams you don't belong. Rin sinks his teeth into Ai's lip pleadingly.
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Date: 2025-07-23 04:25 am (UTC)I want you to know it was all me.
He groans feeling Rin's nails scrape at his scalp again, his vice grip spurring Ai on. He can't take it anymore either; Rin sucks him in so greedily, and is writhing like that, moaning against him like that-- it puts Ai very firmly at the end of his physical rope. He wants to be so patient, go so slow. Wants to treat Rin right - and he will - and wants to make this something worth remembering for more than just heartbreak--
It is as if his lips are trying to melt into Rin's; as if it were physically possible to sink down into him, absorb into him in one heated pile. Rin biting his lip and drawing a spec of blood was the last snap of his patience. He sucks in a harsh breath against Rin, and then leans back only enough to be able to look down at him. Finally seeks out his eyes, and in Ai's own, that ghost of something from earlier presently completely overshadowed by his arousal and determination.
He is kissing Rin sweetly, as if begging with him to just wait a little bit longer; slides his fingers out, trails his sullied hand up Rin's thigh, over his stomach. To his hip. Mutters against his lips with knit brows and a lascivious sigh, "Turn over."
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Date: 2025-07-23 04:39 am (UTC)He practically yanks his mouth away, as he scrabbles himself over. This is what he wants. To be treated like something to be used, face pushed down in the pillows to muffle any sullying sounds from escaping him. His tank top is all twisted and bunched up in all the wrong places, but Rin doesn't even care.
Because all Rin can hear is the static, buzzing with that tone Ai has been taking with him since this messy encounter began. It pounds in his head. As he situates himself on the futon, ass up and face buried in his arms against the pillow, Rin thinks how easy. How easy it would be to just accidentally bump a few things on his phone, record a nice voice message of Rin getting fucking railed right now and let that be his response to everyone's good luck emails?
He won't. But the thought is tempting enough. It's enough to make the blood pound in his head, and he whines a little, trying to push himself back against Ai while he pushes his face in the pillow. Desperate for something, anything. He shivers, feeling cold like this. Just waiting, clenching around nothing and desperate for his own self ridicule to resume.
"Hurry up." He hisses softly, his tone lacking any sort of bite for once. Maybe it sounds small more than anything. He just wants Ai to get off, to kick him out, to make Rin feel full and alive even if it doesn't get him off too.
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Date: 2025-07-23 04:55 am (UTC)Rin prostrate before him, Ai doesn't hesitate to pour generous slick over his cock, warming it over his skin with a hiss. Stroking himself close to Rin's body, his knuckles grazing the mound of Rin's ass, splayed and presented before him. It's the first time since their encounter started that Ai's confidence finally wavers; he had nothing to back this up. Uncharted territory. Only fleeting mental images supplied by unmentionables and a very active imagination, and a will that is currently shaky at best. But he has to, and not only that, he wants to.
His hand smooths over one of Rin's ass cheeks, feeling the taut yet plush skin under his palm; spreads him apart, exposes his taut entrance. Ai rocks his hips forward against him there, spreading the lubricant further over Rin's hole. So much he could say; none that actually reaches his lips. Carefully, Ai aligns himself and pushes in.
It's slow goings; an inch, and then a shallow thrust. Another inch. Half-seated and he's finally leaning over Rin, hissing through grit teeth. It's an unspeakable, tight warmth, mouth agape and rounded on a moan that remains lodged in the back of his throat. His hands migrate to Rin's body as he bottoms out; one smoothing down Rin's spine, to his lower back. The other snakes around Rin's front, pulling him up; forcing Rin's middle back to Ai's chest.
He breathes hot against the back of Rin's nape, eyebrows tangled in a furious knot. The hand across Rin's torso clings to him desperately; his palm and fingernails dig for purchase, first on Rin's shoulder, then down over his chest.
Cheek pressed against Rin's shoulder blades, Ai finds his pace; slowly, at first. Fucking into Rin with full-bodied, measured, rolling movements meant to acclimate them both. "Rin-senpai," comes a hot and desperate exhale against a knob of Rin's spine. Rin gathered against him as if Ai were willing their bodies to commit nuclear fusion as he finally snaps his hips forward. And again. And again, and again--
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Date: 2025-07-23 05:16 am (UTC)It's easy to gaslight yourself into another plane of existence when someone has you bent over, draped over you. It's easy enough to focalize only on that raw, carnal pleasure being built up between two bodies. Something you can only get with somebody else. He can almost trick his body into thinking it's someone else. Except he doesn't. Not really, at least.
It's easy enough to think about past experiences, draw comparisons. It's hard when the person touching you is so meticulous and indulgent in what he thinks your body wants and needs. Rin whines as Ai begins to sink into him, his hands roving Rin's body like he was searching for something to hold, something to ground them both.
Rin stubbornly refuses to fall into that trap, pushing his body back. The prep wasn't near enough with the pace they're setting. And Rin doesn't even care. It's a slew of unbridled noises spilling from his lips, intensified by the way Ai says his name like that. Like it actually means something.
That hot sting pools in the corners of his eyes. Pain and pleasure misfiring from all direction, his body contorting in a whirlwind. He doesn't know whether to sob, or scream, or moan. All he can do is push back to meet each of Ai's thrusts, that steady slap of skin echoing throughout the room.
His fingers practically tear through his borrowed sheets, the ones he's always considerately kept so clean and pristine before now. Just sullied by each drag of his beading cock against the fabric. His knees ache, his knuckles creak. Rin just wants to bite into his pillow to muffle whatever stupid noises are being punched out of him.
Instead all he can muster is some choked off whine.
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Date: 2025-07-23 05:29 am (UTC)It brushes against his instinct for only a moment, but he doesn't lose his pace; thinks to what feels good, what his body intuits. Rin's heat is addictive and the way he moans even moreso, causing lilted sighs and harder, longer groans to waft themselves over the back of Rin's neck and spine.
"Ah, god," he exhales thick again, arm flexing to keep Rin close against him; his other hand snakes away from Rin's lower back, curls under his front. Down his stomach and to Rin's cock, where Ai ruts his eyes closed and does his best to stroke Rin off at the same fast, unapologetic tempo as his hips. "Rin-senpai," he moans again, mind mostly blank other than the name of the man underneath him. He laps at Rin's shoulder; grazes his teeth against him, "Feels-- good. You feel good." Presses his cheek again as he thrusts harder, longer. Shockwaves of heat overwhelm his body, but Ai's priority is nowhere near getting himself off -it's all Rin. What's left behind when it's had its way.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-23 10:33 pm (UTC)"You've-- got a fucking way with words."
He almost laughs, completely unsure if it's mocking or teasing. He doesn't know up from down at this point. There's some emptiness in the realization that this is exactly what he wanted. A quick and rough fuck into the mattress, proving he's of little good other than being a cock sleeve.
Well, everyone has their talents he supposes.
There's jolts everywhere Ai touches. His skin jumps and tremors under the hot breaths, the hips slamming against his skin. Overstimulation is already running rampant and he hasn't even come yet. Ai's cock catches against that particular spot, and he chokes against the pillow, his fingers tightening around Ai's. It's the only semblance of control he has like this, the only way to measure his worth.
Eventually, his body begins to accommodate the abysmal prepwork and hips snapping against the back of his own. He faintly tastes blood, he wonders if its from his own lip or the vicious lip locks they've partaken in. Rin's noises are unbridled, slipping out and bubbling up like he's not holding them back at all.
Things begin to blur, that familiar tension coiling in his lower gut. Rin whines, pressing his face into the pillow, effectively smothering his pitiful noises. It hurts. It feels good. His head is spinning. His body is aching. Everything is threatening to burst. Some muffled semblance of Ai's name, or maybe someone else's, is spat against the pillow as Ai continues thrusting against the spot that makes his toes curl.
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Date: 2025-07-23 11:21 pm (UTC)If only he knew how badly, how sorely Ai wanted to kiss and touch upon him as if he were molten gold. To show him there was no fear in being vulnerable; that an exposed heart warrants reward. That love doesn't have to hurt. But Ai is a hypocrite, pinned between a duty and a fear, and is selfish, but isn't selfish enough to renege on what Rin's plainly asked of him. Isn't brave enough to do the exact thing for himself he is trying to do for Rin, winding up in a half-measure.
I feel so useless.
He can feel Rin's body surge with what Ai suspects is a pulse of white heat; he knows the feeling. Keeps his hips such that he fucks into that spot over and over, so badly wanting to grant to Rin his relief. There's sweat on Ai's brow, face buried still against Rin's neck, his back, the back of his hair - anywhere Ai can touch. Though Rin's caught his working hand in a vice, his other scours up Rin's body, migrating from his hip to his lower back. Ai presses down there, encouraging Rin's chest further down; his hips further up. Bringing their bodies just a little bit closer.
Pressure builds in his core; he's close.
"Please," he exhales lowly, hand clawing up Rin's spine and over his shoulders and into his hair; Ai tugs his scalp, just enough to try and bring Rin's head out from where he's buried it in a pillow. So badly wants to kiss whatever he can reach - Rin's jaw, his chin, anything. "Please come. I want to hear you."
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Date: 2025-07-24 12:38 am (UTC)But Ai is pressing encouraging kisses along whatever patch of skin he can reach, angling Rin's body just so. He practically spasms underneath the new angle, fingers digging into the sheets with an unbridled sob.
Is that what Ai's doing? Turning this into some sort of competition? Making Rin come first? He digs his heels in, trying to fight it off. But he's already hit that overstimulation shoving him right over the precipice he's been toeing for so long. Touch starved and confused. And so he tumbles over.
And not quietly either.
If it weren't for the rain and thunder looming outside, Rin is sure Ai would get a noise complaint. Because he near bites through his tongue trying to keep the noise back. It still bubbles up anyways, as he comes harder than he has in god knows how long. All because of that stupid tug at his scalp. His body clenches around Ai, his fingernails dig into Ai's hand. Everything whites out, his limbs feel numb, and he doesn't even know who's name he's moaning anymore. The room spins, and everything feels so incredibly heavy as he comes down from whatever this mess is.
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Date: 2025-07-24 12:59 am (UTC)Rin's orgasm is messy and dramatic and makes Ai's breath hitch in his throat. Again, Rin calls out to someone, but Ai can't make out who and for his own sake chooses not to listen too closely anymore. Only when he's certain that Rin's completely spent does Ai pull out, slowly so as not to leave Rin's body with more aches than he likely already has. Trying to be conscientious like that, even still.
Ai's eyelids are heavy as he jacks himself off right at the mound of Rin's hips. In comparison, his peak is much less overt - his voice hitches, the fingers on Rin's hips curl, a shudder runs down his spine. He paints himself over the crevice of Rin's ass and his lower back...
And the silence that falls is, for him, deafening. Rin wanted to be fucked right out of his emotions - now what? Was it overstepping or underperforming to assume aftercare? Does he run a shower for them both - surely not? It's only now, post-orgasm and post-circumstance, that Ai realizes neither of them even got naked. No more sounds of skin slapping against skin, no more moaning from Rin, no more of his own heavy breaths - Ai is now once again acutely in-tune with the bellowing in his own chest, reverberating between his ears.
He has one thought of clarity, which is the threat of guilt if he doesn't do something. Just to be present; it felt right. Ai shifts forward just enough to kiss the back of Rin's hair, nosing him there for a lengthy moment. Trying to etch into his memory the smell and how Rin's hair feels slicked with sweat. Then he's sitting up, almost reluctantly so, hand appreciatively smoothing down Rin's spine in a slow, repetitive motion.
"Are you alright?" he asks, quiet. Suddenly making noise felt like it might make something snap. Ai sits back on his haunches; kisses Rin's tailbone, then his outer thigh. And then Ai's hands fall down to the sides of Rin's legs, as if to give Rin the room to move however he pleases. "I'll-- Let me get you a cloth." Is he running away? Hard to tell. Ai rises to his feet. Addresses Rin but again can't look him in the eye, is instead suddenly self-conscious and tucking himself back into his pants and focusing on that, "Or I can run the shower for you."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-24 01:14 am (UTC)He isn't even good enough for Ai to get off in.
What a fucking joke.
Rin grimaces at the feeling of come painting his skin. He grits his teeth under it, and something searing boils in him. He feels so empty and miserable now. Ai just acts like he's being burned by touching Rin somehow, touches feather light and hesitant despite being reassuring. He already can feel the tears spilling.
He refuses to look back at Ai, just tugs his tank top down as much as he can to cover the mess and give himself a little dignity. Ai sounds like he's running, so Rin is just going to run too. He shakes his head, forehead against the pillow as he tries to wobble up onto his knees. Rin hisses at the pain coursing through his thighs. Oh yeah, he knew he would be paying for that later. And whatever mindset he's neck deep in is just intensifying it.
His hand slams against the wall next to the futon, as he hoists himself up. He continues to try to keep his tank top tugged down, it barely reaching halfway down his ass. He feels so fucking miserable and empty. He just wants to shower. He can't even look at Ai now. Crying like a girl after taking it up the ass.
"Fine. Just. Gonna shower."
Go figure. No wonder Haru didn't want to be with him. No wonder Ai just wanted to paint his back. No wonder Sousuke never made any move on him, but on Ai.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-24 01:35 am (UTC)He feels frozen to the wooden floor as he watches Rin struggle to his feet, eyes glassing over.
"Senpai," Ai calls, unsure exactly what he did wrong or how to fix it but now resolute that just letting Rin saunter with a tear-stained face isn't the answer; Ai pads in front of him, places a hand on Rin's shoulder, trying to still him. Maybe just slow enough to help him walk over, Ai doesn't know - he feels compelled to get Rin's attention. To try. Again. Even if every part of him internally is barely held together by string and a wish. "You have to take it easy." You look terrible. You look worse. That's my fault.
He's a slave to himself, and catches Rin's eye, glassy and so far away. It causes his own to sting, a large lump suddenly pressing against the back of his tongue and throat. As if attempting to soothe - as if he could - he shifts his hand, thumbing over one of the many lighter love bites on Rin's neck.
"You could let me help." Mouth open, agape on words he can't find. After a false start he tries again, knowing in the back of his head Rin is at best not listening and at worst priming to tell him to shut up in no uncertain way, but he has to try, "Please. I-- enjoyed it, together. I don't want it to end badly. If this is how you need to look at me now, I want you to at least say you didn't regret it."
He wants to kiss Rin. Looks at his lips. Doesn't.
"-- So let me run you a shower. Or wash your back. Something." Quieter, "Please."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-24 03:58 am (UTC)"I don't--"
Need help? Want help? Regret it?
He doesn't even know what answer he is trying to formulate. All he can do is shiver against the wall, feeling Ai press those soothing touches all over his neck. Rin knows he fucked up, he shouldn't have goaded Ai into sleeping with him. Not that Ai didn't consent to it. It would be hard to take it any other way, considering how marred Rin's skin is and how aching he's feeling. But he goaded him into this, he wanted this...
Rin shakes his head. Those gentle words remind him of their year rooming together. Too much kindness for someone who doesn't deserve it. Rin swallows around nothing. He can't stand that look covering Ai's face. Like Rin just monumentally fucked all of this up. He grits his teeth.
"...fine. We can. Shower." He's choking around words, trying to formulate the right ones. "Sorry. Just. Little out of it."
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Date: 2025-07-24 04:31 am (UTC)"I can tell," he finally intones, voice a small coo and smile on his face that is no less tired than it would have been an hour ago. But for Rin, he tries; for his own sanity, he tries. Ai's palm slides down Rin's body, to Rin's hand; squeezes it softly, a feather-light touch, before guiding Rin away from the wall he's using for balance and encouraging him to follow and rely on Ai instead.
Traitorous thing, the engine in his chest; despite it all, it throbs painfully hard against his rib cage, finding that even now, even the smallest touch gives him goosebumps. He doesn't need to delude himself into thinking it'll last, knows that whatever happens tonight is in a capsule. It is the impermanence of it, he thinks - he suspects - that enables him to be bolder than he would under any other circumstance.
He walks backward toward the shower room. Pauses for a moment to shuck off his shirt, hands it to Rin. All too little too late now, but Rin may still feel indecent; Ai wants to do whatever he can to try and get those tears to stop. Show him he has someone in his corner, no matter the costs.
"I meant it at the time too, but." He's watching where he steps so as not to bump into anything, crossing the threshold into the shower room, "It really did feel good. You did." He clears his throat a little, "Sorry I was a bit eager." Is he filling space? Yes. He usually wouldn't; he was very good at letting him and Rin coexist in peaceful silence with the demons of Rin's mind among them. For once, his anxiety is threatening to get the better of him, and his mouth runs as a nervous filter.
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Date: 2025-07-24 08:54 pm (UTC)His throat tightens.
All throughout life, Rin has become a master of masks. It's just that time to don another one. A softening expression, playing into the role Ai is seeking out. The one that is fine. It's easy to shrink into yourself. It's even easier still to claw so deep inside yourself and press someone else on their feelings, that it's like yours never existed to begin with.
God, he's such a shitty friend. Rin just smiles at the compliment, a soft thing. He lets Ai fill the space, as much as he needs to. Keeping eyes streaked with tears and redness focused on him as they step into the shower together. Gingerly takes the shirt, and keeps it close to his chest. A kind gesture. Too kind.
"Glad you felt good."
He skirts around that Ai said Rin felt good as more of a follow up to 'it' feeling good. Which is fine. He tries to recreate whatever teasing facade they build up together that first night, before Rin inevitably messed that up too.
"That stamina is no joke." He laughs, that forced thing slipping from his lips before he turns around, keeping the shirt clutched close like it's something grounding. It is, but Rin can't pinpoint why. Maybe it's the small act of pity, or just something to dig his fingers into so tight. It spares his palms the blood at least.
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Date: 2025-07-24 09:31 pm (UTC)He's probably numbed himself out, Ai thinks acutely, leaving Rin's body only long enough to get the water going; the shower room is quite typical of a Japanese apartment, the shower head able to reach the entirety of the room but with a designated, tall bathing basin attached to one half of the space. He's fantasized about being in there with Rin, too; being held close under a stream of water, or letting it lap at their knees and chins as Ai massaged him. All such a far cry from their reality, where Rin's clinging to his shirt in the mouth of the room and forcing himself to smile through tears after a round of sex Ai knows without a shadow of a doubt was only meant to salve.
Ai tries to smile too, just to match Rin. But it's apparently harder to even do that much when Rin himself isn't up to the task. Ai could handle teeth and claws; could handle anger. Could handle being taunted, having his earnest feelings torn down. Somehow, he can't handle this. He feels the back of his eyes beginning to burn; is quick to turn his back to Rin as he peels off his pants and underwear, momentarily pressing his palms to his eyes to will them to stay before standing up again, nude and as collected as he could be.
"You make it easy to want to keep going." The pause that follows is a wide, hollow berth. A yawning chasm threatening to drag Ai down by his ankles. He wasn't the one fucked into a futon, yet his entire body feels so sore and heavy. Sapped of his will, reality of it all collecting at their feet, Ai suddenly starts, mouth faster than his brain can process trying to stop it,
"Why did you--," only then catching up. Ai already knows the answer, doesn't have to ask it. He falls back from that precipice, turning to face Rin again, though still can't look him in the eye. Ai busies himself with getting a wash rag wet with suds, trying to pivot, "-- Sorry. Come here, let me wash your back."
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Date: 2025-07-24 09:47 pm (UTC)You make it easy to want to keep going.
Rin wants to fucking laugh that it obviously isn't if Ai had to pull out to get off. But he doesn't say it, just keeping that thin smile on his face as he stumbles through stripping off his remaining article of clothing. It takes a minute, but he tosses Ai's shirt along with it, forgotten in some unnamed corner.
Rin jolts under the question. Flinches under the backpedal, as Ai tries to encroach on his space. Why did he what? There's a thousand questions lingering on the statement, each one more terrifying than the last. Rin bites his lip, turning his head away. But not before grabbing Ai's wrist, the one with the wash cloth. His grip is firm, but not malicious. Maybe more akin to a panicked confusion, dread.
"Why did I what?"
He dares to spit it out, unable to meet Ai's gaze. Why did you do that? Because everything fucking hurts, and he wanted the noise to stop. Why did you make me fuck you? Because Rin is lonely, and misses someone. He doesn't know. He tries to keep that smile on his face, still unable to meet Ai head on. A meek gesture, a demonstration that he's not threatening right now.
Because Rin remembers the panic in Ai's eyes before he kissed him. And it makes bile curl up his throat.
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Date: 2025-07-24 09:59 pm (UTC)It's a damn good thing Rin isn't looking at him because in the moment that follows Rin grabbing his wrist and demanding his question, Ai's eyes grow glassy. His lips contort around the threat of a sob, trying so hard to bite it back at the still-fresh memory. To his credit, he doesn't make a sound; the only wetness on his cheeks the splashback from the shower. There and gone, a fortified wall tossed up at rapid speed so he could remain as every bit as composed as Rin hasn't been.
Because he doesn't need to know why Rin did that; he knows why. Doesn't need to know why Rin wanted Ai to fuck him; Ai knows that, too. He shakes his head because he doesn't want to open this can of worms, but if Rin is insisting it out of him, it's the most clarity he's gotten from Rin since the moment Ai smashed his mug on the floor.
Ai could never be scared of Rin. Not really. Not even after all of this. What scares him the most are consequences; it's why he flinched then, and why his voice is sapped and quiet now.
"Why did you say their names?" Sou-senpai. Ha-ruka. The mocking lilt in Rin's voice still haunts him. The unspoken implications flanking his mockery eat at Ai from the inside.
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Date: 2025-07-24 10:32 pm (UTC)Not by a long shot.
His eyes widen, and he can't bear to whip around and look. It's gut wrenching and terrifying to think of what expression he might find there. Because Ai's voice is so quiet. And maybe that's when things slowly crumble into place. There's been inklings, sure but. Those words almost solidify that voice in the back of his head. And something in Rin crashes harder than ever before.
He lets go of Ai's wrist, his own dropping down in a clenched off fist. There's a million different responses to the question, each one worse than the last. Rin can't even swallow around the lump, thick in his throat. His teeth sink into his lip, as he fights down the wail his body so desperately wants to let out. What the actual fuck is wrong with him?
"Ai, I..." He pauses, can't even muster a sentence to start. What's easiest? The truth? Or is some fabrication that eases the pain better? He's taken advantage of Ai in every sense. Crashed on his floor, led him on, goaded him into fucking him, and just twisted around with cruelty to repay all the kindness and emotional fuck ups Rin has just inflicted on his friend. His eyes sting.
"...I'm sorry." What a piss poor excuse of an apology. His voice feels so hollow, so small. He tries to give the explanation Ai is desperately owed, and Rin doesn't even know if he can do that right. Pitiful. Ai had hurled something cruel back at Rin. It had been well deserved in the moment, and Rin just bit back with further cruelty, fueled by whatever mess he had started.
"It-- fuck. Look, I wanted you to be fucking angry. You were being so soft, and I." He stops, he can't--won't--reiterate on it. Because he thinks he knows now, and it makes him feel sick. Rin fucking Matsuoka. What a standup guy.
"I didn't want that. Sorry. Shit, I'm sorry."
Those tears spill over again, but he doesn't care. He deserves that sting.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-24 10:58 pm (UTC)It still hurts. He isn't sure how much Rin has parsed out on his own but it's evidently enough for him to feel guilty, which makes Ai internally panic. Ai presses his fingers to the corner of his eye as if again trying to abate the sting.
"Rin-senpai, please." Despite it all, his beckon is to try and get Rin not to self-flagellate. "I get it." Rin wanted to hurt. He had Ai in front of him, and had to work with what he had. It was a low blow, but at least-- Ai isn't sure. At least it wasn't targeted. It wasn't on purpose. Would Rin have said any of it if he knew? Somehow, Ai thinks not. It was a catch 22.
"I'm not you." Quieter, voice betraying him a little with a hitch, "I'm not Nanase-san." He lifts his free hand to thumb away some of the tears pouring from Rin's eyes. Hesitates, but decides quietly, to hell with it all.
"I thought I could show you something different. I thought I could ease the hurt, maybe, just a little, in my own way. I knew it wasn't," and he gets stuck. Right there. I knew it wasn't me you wanted. He can't get the words out so he just tries again, "-- I knew what I was getting into. Yet I still tried... That's on me." The heat behind his eyes is painful; the void in his chest threatens to swallow him whole. So badly he wants to move past this.
"I can only meet you as me." Hell-- against his will, his eyebrows are knitting together, eye brimming. He turns his cheek and holds his free hand's knuckles to his nose and mouth, as if that'll stop the deluge. At the very least, his voice is steady, which is maybe the only saving grace in this entire circumstance, keeping him squarely at pathetic instead of descending fully into shameful. "That's all."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-24 11:16 pm (UTC)"I didn't want you to be you." He hisses, immediately trying to explain himself because--fuck--that comes out wrong. So wrong. It is cruel, and he can't even bear to look to see if Ai flinches under the words.
"I didn't mean it like that! I. I'm just a fucking wreck, okay? You were being so nice, and it felt fucking awful. I don't deserve it."
Rin chokes on the word. Everything feels like it's about to burst.
"I fucking goaded you into it. It's nobody's fault but mine." His fingers twitch, he wants to run. But he forces himself to stay put, even if he is so cowardly that he can't even meet Ai's gaze head on, can't help but burn underneath every compassionate touch Ai dolls onto him.
"You looked at me like--" Rin can't finish, biting his lip. "Even after I fucking threw that at you. You shouldn't be meeting me anywhere. Not like this. Fuck, I'm sorry." All he can think of is the cold way Haru let the sentence linger. The awkward flight back to Japan. It didn't even feel like he was sad, or hurt. Just done. That blankness followed him for so long, guttural. Then Ai comes diving after Rin and Rin was selfish enough to cling to it.
There was no reason to drag Sousuke or Haru into this fucking mess. But he did it. He'd said it all smirking and confidence thick in his words. A cheap shot.
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Date: 2025-07-24 11:41 pm (UTC)It's that feeling again. A heat crawling up his spine, pressurizing in his gut, threatening to spew out of his esophagus and throat and mouth like a pressured geyser finally releasing itself of its steam. The same exact feeling he had before he'd held Rin to his words. The same exact feeling he had before Rin decided to cause a domino effect.
"I don't understand."
His diaphragm rises and falls with the deep inset of his breaths.
"I don't understand!"
Another voice crack, this time not from his deep and resonant sorrow, but from anger. About fifteen minutes too late, but--
"You move with your head screwed so loose your memory leaks out of your ears. Who gets to decide whether you deserve it or not? If someone chooses you, they did it for a reason!" His blunt fingers scrape against the skin of his chest, as if he might claw his heart out and shove it in Rin's face as proof. "You've no idea the impact you have on people. Because you assume the worst about yourself, so you assume the worst about the rest of us too. That isn't fair!"
He sniffs, once - it's a righteous fury, that noise. Indignant in the way he's staring right at Rin now, laid bare. "The only person who gets to decide how I feel is me." Palms pushing away at his eyes; his voice calms down, but his expression is twisted with his stubborn refusal to keep letting Rin get his way. "If I'm angry with you, if I," he can't. The words won't manifest on his tongue. He bites the inside of his lower lip, stubborn tenacity having racked his spine rod straight. "If you 'deserve' it. That's for me to decide. No one else. Not you."
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Date: 2025-07-25 12:06 am (UTC)"Don't fucking start with me."
Their voices crack in tune with the other. But his oozes with a bitter defensiveness. He finally whips around to face Ai. Unlike before, he keeps his hands to himself. He already trashed everything by touching once, he's not keen to make that mistake again. Why won't Ai hate him? Why does he feel like this? Who the fuck looks at someone like Rin, and decides that's what kind of person they want in their life? It's completely hypocritical to what Ai is telling him. But Rin can't shake it.
"Right, because people just wake up wanting to be like this." He spits, his fist shaking at his side. There's some sick, splitting feeling. He has no control here. And he doesn't know how to claw his way back into some semblance of it. Ai's just driving the knife in deeper. And Rin knows it's true.
"I assume the worst because you all fucking leave anyways."
Everything floods back to him. Crashes over him in waves, and Rin snarls the next retort. His head is pounding. Rin was never worth it to Sousuke to tell his big, deep secret. "Because you'll cry." Let alone politely inform Rin he was fucking their teammate. Ai obviously has been holding onto something deeper here, and Rin can't pinpoint why he never said it out loud. Haru... he shoves that thought away as quick as it forms.
Is any of this fixable at this point?
"One day people choose you, and the next--" His mouth slams shut. Haru's name burns in his throat, bile clambering around it. Rin chokes and holds Ai's tear stricken gaze.
"I just wanted to forget." His voice is eerily still. His mouth is drawn into something between a grimace and a sneer. It's all inward reflection at this point. How do you make somebody hate you so much, that they never want to reflect on you again? "What the fuck do you want from me? Psychoanalyzing every goddamn mistake. Newsflash, Nitori. I do that myself." It's a low blow.
Rin doesn't know what else to do. Except push, push, push. All instead of dealing with his own feelings because he doesn't even know how to touch this with a ten foot pole. He swallows, digging his fingernails into his wrist.
"What do you want? For me to admit I'm just some piece of shit who ruined the only good thing he had? Con-fucking-grats. You win. I'm your guy. 'If you' what huh? Wanna tell me why you pulled out? Not good enough to even come in?"
But then Rin shifts, and the words spilling from his mouth don't even carry a direct tone. They're so laced with bitterness and anger and frustration and guilt.
"If you fucking wanted something from me, why'd you wait until I was at my lowest to throw it in my face?" The insinuation on that last part is there. It's clear as day. Why did you never just tell me how you felt? "Or is it easier to watch me fall apart and feel righteous cleaning it all up? Fuck that."
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From:mobile is ass so I’m sorry for the ass reply
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