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."
He's seen this snap happen before. He's instigated it once, in fact - had Rin so red mad he snarled, spittled, smashed things and nearly gave up on it all. And back then too, Ai had tried so hard to help. To talk some sense, to be the voice of reason - much like then, it's as if all he's capable of doing is making it worse. Insignificant. Useless. As Rin spits on and on, it's all Ai can do to let him, shameful tears pricking and falling from his eyes, red-hot with his shame.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of it was.
"When have I ever left? When?" Ai is so desperate to get through to Rin, he's far past the point of being precious about his feelings anymore. About that which he has obfuscated for so long. But there was more to it than that: so potently, as a visceral need, he feels he has to communicate that the way he's treated Rin historically, the way he's regarded him, tried to be there for him, was not motivated. Never a means to an end, always just a friend looking out for his fellow. In the grand scheme of things, his ardor had very little affect on it all.
"Did I leave when you hit your lows in first year, too? Did I leave when I knew you were chasing Nanase-san? When I didn't make the relay team? Show me when." He furiously wipes at his face. "Show me one instance when I ever left." He knows Rin can't. It's more forward than he might usually be - it's more pushy, it's more selfish in its desire to prove a point to Rin. But Ai feels he has to get through to him somehow.
Hearing his family name makes him stiffen, a wave of deep, tar-like anxiety rolling over his system, thick and unyielding. It hurts, but. He can come to expect this much from Rin; after their conversation just before, understands it to not be personal. He can dress his wounds later; he still has a greater duty here, in service to something greater than what he holds in his chest.
Rin's grotesque comment has Ai shaking his head, lowly, just once. "It wasn't that at all." Despite all of this, despite them flat-out arguing, Ai flushes. "I-- wanted to. But I also understood the context. I thought," pause, breath, "I thought as soon as you were done you'd want to put it behind us. Doing it inside would have only dragged it out."
But Rin just keeps going. It's a deluge. He's throwing knives and trying to see what sticks and Ai knows it, has the metaphoric blood pouring out of his torso to prove it. His bottom lip quivers - pathetic. He sniffs, tries to keep a grip on his composure. And looks away at first, because confronting Rin with the reality of what he's sat on for so long is too large a burden to bear. Ai feels he can't do it, even for Rin's sake. But after a moment's hesitation, sky blue eyes lock on deep, dark crimson, all unmitigated determination and anguish and ardor, all at once. He endures, because he has to.
"But that's exactly it. I didn't want anything from you, Rin-senpai." The name's heavy on his tongue. "Whether or not I was honest, it wouldn't change anything. Not in the way I came to you," His god damn lip going again-- Ai rubs at his mouth with the back of his hand, sets his jaw. No more. Enough. "And not in the way you come to me. We both know that."
He fists his hands in his hair. Hangs his head low.
"But no matter how useless it is, it's living proof there's at least one person on this earth who will stay. You can try all you like, but I'm not going anywhere. I just can't."
Ai's voice cracks something, and Rin wants to run.
"You're not some fucking saint." His voice cracks, he's running out of argument. Running out of ways to spin this in his favor, but Ai is persistently stubborn. And still right fucking here. His voice turns frantic, Ai looks too much like somebody who cares, and Rin can't stand it.
"Good for you. You fucking stayed." It's a lame ass argument. He's grasping at straws. All he can do is try to tack something more appropriate on. "Watched me make a fool of myself. You were always there. Out of everyone else."
Still. Rin's something more akin to a cornered dog, baring his teeth, lashing and snapping out in some attempts to give himself space.
"Maybe you should have said something when I wanted someone to, ever think of that? Not when I'm losing my mind?" Rin barks out, a sobbing laugh ripping out of him. But then Ai fucking apologizes. Sorry. And Rin wants to scream. He wants to rip his hair out, because that's not at all what he wants.
Why? Why can't people just fucking leave well enough alone? Why is Ai like this?? He's the one apologizing. For all of this, out of all people. Rin chokes out a sob, slamming his fist against the tile wall. The sting is a small relief, the only thing he has in this mess.
Ai titters, but it's such a hollow noise. He can't even smile. Just wipes at his face again as he lifts his head, straightens his spine. ever think of that? He honestly could laugh if he didn't feel so painfully low. How many times had he considered it? Weighing the pros and cons of Rin having access to this information? So little of it actually came down to being 'found out' - how he felt had zero bearings on how he acted with and around Rin. Rather, it was always a measure of whether or not he'd become a bigger burden. Selfless in a way that is selfish.
"You never asked." And why would he? Rin always had his sights on someone else. He never had an incentive to know, such was Ai's measure. A sudden confession from his roommate, or his third-best-friend wouldn't have changed a damn thing. Might've only cornered Rin, maybe even made him feel gross. Estranged their relationship, lengthening the miles between them.
Why? Why do you want to stay??
His eyebrows knit for a moment, but then there's a modicum of peace that crosses his countenance - as if for the first time since they started yelling and arguing, he's had a thought of pure clarity. Something so simple it may as well be banal. The sky is blue, the ocean is vast, the birds sing--
"Because I've always admired you."
He finally does smile, watery as it is. "And because you're my friend. It really is as simple as that."
The words throb in his head. A dull echo pounding alongside the migraine that's already beginning to blossom. Everything else loses touch with reality. His retort at not needing to ask, because they're friends goddamnit and Ai should trust him-
It's deadly silent. Only the water crashing down around them any indication of life. Because suddenly, Rin is 17 again, back to back with his best friend and all he can hear is the hum of a fan and the crack in his voice. "I've always admired you. From the day we met..." And here Ai is. Feeding him the same goddamn line.
The universe hates him. Just a cosmic joke.
His voice is ragged when it finally slips free. "Don't--don't say that." It's frantic. "Jesus christ. You too?? Is that the script everyone's passing around now?" Finally Rin begins to step towards the door, panic fluttering in his gaze. The crocodile tears are back in full force now, all out on display.
"You didn't tell me because you didn't want to burden me? That it, right? Fuck you."
He swipes a hand through his hair, tearing at the seams, fumbling around for his tank top forgotten in the corner. His jaw is clenching so tight, it aches. The silence is too much, too final. Too heavy. Rin sinks his teeth into his lip as he pulls the stained clothing back on with hardly a grimace.
But Rin is taking even a moment of silence as finality right now, and he fumbles for the door. He needs to get out. It's too much. He casts a look at Ai, feeling the blood well from his lip.
"I-- I need to go. I'm sorry." He doesn't comment where, he hasn't gotten that far yet. All he knows is he's a parasite here. This is Ai's home and he's fucking sullied it. Selfishly taken up residency like a goddamn cockroach. Made his neighbor's probably hate him between the books, the fucking and the screaming in the middle of the night. Rin doesn't even care that it's still a fucking monsoon ouside.
Because he's just grabbing his phone, shoving the remainder of his clothes on and veering out the door like he's just been burned. But he's considerate in one thing at least, and doesn't slam the door behind him. He's already caused enough damage for one night. For a lifetime.
"Senpai," Ai begins in protest, a pang of hurt overwhelming his senses. He'd put on full display his honest feelings, and even now, even now all Rin can deign to do is compare it to someone else. Ai knows exactly who, and it eats at him inside.
That it, right? Fuck you. It's all he can do to stare. Rin had the right of it this time - nuances be damned. Before he can even open his mouth to try and form words, Rin's already made up his mind. He's moving, picking up his stuff. Ai wonders if the apology is more for Rin or for himself as Rin books it out the door.
It comes in waves. Grief, agony, confusion, regret. Perhaps it's a blessing Rin's taken off, he isn't around to hear the guttural sobbing Ai looses amidst the shower room, water now running cold.
When he finally collects himself enough to exit into the apartment, he isn't sure what to think at seeing that Rin's bag is still there. Relief at first. Despite everything, Ai still wanted this to be the place Rin would return. Even if it meant difficult conversations and new normals. His chest feels so heavy, but this is some amount of reprieve.
The rest is a bit of a blur, his head pounding from the yelling, the tears shed, having been under the water for so long-- he is certain his neighbours are going to issue a noise complaint tomorrow. He cleans up the kitchen, careful not to nick himself on the shattered porcelain. Places the abandoned mug in the sink. Takes off Rin's sheets and lays out a fresh set for him.
He lays down on his bed, on top of the covers. Back turned to the apartment, staring blearily at the curtained window, listening to the harsh batter of the rain against the glass. He wants to make sure Rin is alright, but knows he needs space - Ai isn't foolish enough to run out for him. So he waits. Eyes closed, despite sleep being a long gone conclusion.
Rin goes to Sousuke's first. Showing up on his doorstep in the middle of a storm, shaking and sobbing for a multitude of reasons. It only makes his friend's eyes widen, as he yanks him inside. It's some small blessing his brother isn't there to see him in such a humiliating state. It's bad enough Sousuke had to see it. His neck marred, soaking wet, barely able to stand from the night's activities and Rin's own inner turmoil. All while sobs continue to spill in half coherent chokes.
It doesn't last more than two days, however.
Because Sousuke doesn't press the first twenty four hours. He makes his bed up for Rin, and just lets him sob himself to sleep. He knows Rin gets nightmares in this weather, but he's not stupid either. And so Rin blankly sleeps for the next ten hours. It's awkward when he awakens, and Sousuke is sitting right there at his desk like he never moved at all. But a few hours later, he finally presses.
"You look like shit."
And something in Rin jolts, and they do what they do best after another day of awkwardly skirting around it. Fight it out, until Rin is storming out. Because he knows Sousuke is right. He's not going to hold back, and he doesn't. There's some panicked confusion in Rin's voice when the accusatory words slip out. The 'why did you never tell me's. And Sousuke stays stoic as he can through that argument. Fuck, did everyone know about how Ai feels except Rin himself?
But then Sousuke just gets this sad smile, and something in Rin is gutted. Because his retort is quiet. "How could someone not feel that way?" And Rin isn't fucking ready for this conversation either, because he knows exactly what that soft smile entails, that miserable glaze hovering over his eyes.
And so Rin leaves Sousuke's in that similar fashion.
His phone has long since died. Not that he wants to look at whoever is texting him anyways. He wants to go home. Rin just wants to curl up against his mom on the couch, but she doesn't even know he's back in the country and trekking all the way home looking like this isn't what a good son does.
So Rin does something he's not necessarily proud of for the next two nights.
But night four, he comes back because there's no running from this forever. He's surprised his key still works, truth be told. The smile on his face is a bitter thing, upon the realization. Maybe it's more self sabotaging than anything as he limps through the genkan, slipping off his shoes as quietly as possible. There's dark bags under his eyes, his jacket pulled up; a miserable shielding of the black and blue coating his neck like a scarf. Intensified from whatever Ai left the other night. Deep and smeared.
He can't even bring himself to look into the apartment at first, too miserable to see what mess might still linger. Just staring blankly down at himself. He has a small bag, some stupid sort of peace offering. An olive branch. It's just one of Ai's favorite drinks. Stupid in the grand scheme of things, but.
He wasn't sure how long to expect Rin to be gone, but Ai wasn't stupid or deluded enough to know it'd be an overnight affair. For reasons he cannot begin to comprehend, Rin had seemed more scorned than Ai himself was. The twisted, mangled expression on his face right before he'd bolted for the front door burned into Ai's memory like a brand of his shame.
By day two, he starts worrying. Feels stuck and beside himself. His instinct is to reach out to Sousuke; Ai would have bet Rin had contacted him by now. Haruka was out of the question, which also put Makoto out of the question, and Ai knows both Nagisa and Rei are too far for Rin to consider bunking with, even temporarily. It was triangulation... But if he's there, it's because he's trying to outrun me. If I call, I only make it worse. Never mind touching upon that which he and Sousuke had sought for solace in one another. Ai doesn't think he could ever forgive himself for accidentally putting that on full display to Sousuke now, in the form of a miserable Matsuoka with the bite marks to prove it.
Day three is when he starts sending texts. He wants to trust Rin, and so they aren't panicked - try not to be. Don't beg him either. But on the off chance Rin still had service or didn't outright block him, Ai did what he could to make it evident Rin still had a space.
Are you alright? There's discounts on gyuudon today. I think you left your charger. Please be careful. There's high winds today.
Day four is when the panic manifests. Not only out of human worry for Rin, who is god knows where in Tokyo at the moment, and Ai too afraid to text their only probable mutual friend to know for sure. But for his future; the All Japan was right around the corner. After this entire ordeal, would Rin even be fit to compete? Ai himself had qualified, but was definitely not making any cuts this time around either. A foregone conclusion the moment Rin had dragged him by the collar and kissed him. Ai is a mental wreck at the idea that he might be partially responsible for neglecting Rin the chance to chase his dream fully.
He's gone to work; he's gone to classes; he's swam. Worked out, fed himself, showered. Went on as normally as he could. But every single evening he returns to his apartment, it is as if a bellowing yawn is waiting for an opportunity to swallow him whole.
He is trying - and failing - to go over some study work when he hears the front door unlock. Ai swivels in his chair, line of sight pinning directly across the apartment and on crestfallen red hair. Ai jolts up to his feet, about to run the length of his apartment to Rin-- but pauses. Suddenly is painfully aware of the miles and miles and miles between them. His hand grips the edge of his desk, white-knuckled...
But his eyes are blown wide, glassy with utter relief. Of the maelstrom swirling in his chest, this is the most poignant feeling. His chest rises and falls heavily.
"W--," he begins. Stops. Then commits, "Welcome home."
He doesn't say anything at first. The sting of that greeting. Welcome home. In a place he has completely sullied into feeling alien. Ai seemed so proud of the home he built for himself, and now... Rin awkwardly stands in the doorway, squeezing his wrist, his other hand holding the small bag.
He hates feeling like he's disturbed the very space he dares to occupy, even just by standing.
"I--" Rin falters. He stares at the floor, before forcing himself to move across the small space. It's only to shove the bag into Ai's arms and step back towards the doorway. Like he isn't sure if he belongs here anymore. Home. His stomach lurches. Rin shifts a little, leaning back against the wall near the door. His jacket sticks to his skin, his hair dripping.
Everything looks normal. There's no shattered porcelain, or messed up sheets. Everything looks... normal. Rin swallows around nothing. There's a part of him that just wants to crawl against the futon without another word. But that's the coward's way. And he's been so much of that recently. With everyone. He goes back to grabbing his own wrist, the pressure a nice grounding through this whole mess. He's exhausted. The last time he got any decent rest was at Sousuke's. And before that it was night after night of none through the storms.
His neck aches. His body is stiff. But that fear of occupying space leaks back into him. He's stiff from where he stands. Until finally, Rin tries speaking again.
Ai can at least tell Rin's cooled off - what had been a raging fury and powerful anger days ago has, in its wake, transformed into a resigned solemn. Ai doesn't think he's ever seen Rin so mentally far away. Unsure. Passively, self-deprecatingly, Ai wonders if this is what he looked like all throughout first year.
He watches with that same wide-eyed stare as Rin crosses the space with such speed the floor may as well be made of tacks, shoves a bag in Ai's hand, and then retreats back to the mouth of the studio.
Ai isn't so sure what to do next. What he wants to do differs from when he knows he should do, and both differ from his instinct. He peeks inside the bag - a lemon tea, one of his favourites. The way his chest suddenly feels as if it's about to burst is in and of itself a betrayal, but god damnit, he can't help the way his mouth tries to smile against his cheeks. Not because Rin remembered, or because it's his favourite - but because Rin's trying. It was the little bit Ai needed to feel as if not everything had been lost.
Rather than overthink them both into another argument, Ai decides to lean fully into his intuition. There was nothing to hide anymore - was his rationale. So he takes the lemon tea out of the bag and crosses about half-way over toward Rin, near to his futon. Looks to him with a gentle shake of his head. I forgive you. But if Rin knows Ai, he knows that forgiveness is implicit. I'm sorry, too. Ai swallows down his running thoughts to maintain his composure, eyes flitting over Rin's form to take him in gently.
"It's okay." It's said almost hushed; loud enough to make sure Rin registers, quiet enough that Ai can move past it quickly. He's leaning forward a little then, as if wanting to step closer but not quite having the courage at first. Then, suddenly, decides he's done holding back for Rin's sake; that's half of the reason they've gotten to this point. So he steps closer, just barely in Rin's space, an arm's length away. Ai tries to find his eyes.
"Are you alright?" he doesn't mean emotionally, not that he'd expect Rin to reply as such anyway; he's worried about Rin's condition. Four days is a long time to be a vagabond. "Have you eaten? You're soaking wet..." I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.
"Don't ask questions if--" He stops himself before he snaps back something he can't take back again. if you don't want the answer. It's mean. And Rin doesn't want to be like that. He's already had a miserable stint, and it isn't worth it because he has enough pride to choke a horse. He licks his lips, trying to adopt something softer.
But he doesn't flinch when Ai encroaches on his space. He just doesn't know what to do with it. He looks a little surprised at the proximity. Because at the end of the day, Rin didn't say anything back. Because he doesn't know what to say. He's not sure he even deserves the look that crosses Ai's gaze when he brims with recognition at the tea of all things.
"I'm alright." He lies first, because that instinct wins out the aggression for once. He lets his gaze drift back to the floor, rocking back on his heels.
"Yeah. I ate." He doesn't go into detail about the abysmal amount he's eaten, or what specifically. But that isn't a lie at least. Rin shifts again. "It's just raining again." He flinches under the implication that he was out in storms at all, when Ai knows damn well how his psyche cracks under it. But he tries to brush that subject aside, because isn't that what started this whole mess to begin with?
It's precarious, the way he lingers there. Ai's kindness is undoing him in real time, and it's a terrifying prospect. "I'm sorry for the shit I said. I'm really sorry."
If only Rin would be honest. Ai would ask a million questions and could weather a million answers, he knows this about himself fundamentally - he just has no way of communicating this to Rin in a way that matters. But Ai's intent isn't to push, not even to pry. Rin's here, he's safe, and he's calmed down, and it's enough for Ai. He knows they'll have difficult conversations; he knows the details will come. He fundamentally trusts Rin to meet him there when Rin's ready. That isn't important to him right now.
The ugly truth is that it all still hurt. Both the things Rin said and didn't say. Ai still wears those wounds and didn't do enough to dress them appropriately, leaving him every bit as raw as the man currently apologizing to him again. But this, too, Ai internalizes as his own fault. If he hadn't caught feelings; if he'd kept his mouth shut. If he'd been a better friend, been more present, been something better than he is. But Ai knows grief is a process, and it starts like this.
He hesitates for a moment before closing the space between them, arms enveloping Rin in an embrace. Timid at first, and then vicelike in how closely he holds Rin against his chest, Ai's knuckles furling against the back of Rin's rain-sopped clothes. Shoulders stiffen and expression twisting with all his relief, all his eagerness to move through this, burying his face in the side of Rin's neck to conceal it.
"It's okay," he repeats. And then says it explicitly to make sure Rin gets it, "I forgive you." Grips him a little tighter. "I'm glad you came back."
He doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve forgiveness, he doesn't deserve kindness. It's a whirlwind in his head the moment Ai closes the distance. Rin stiffens, wincing a little as Ai buries his face against his bruised neck. It hurts, but he doesn't make mention of it. Ai can be selfish. Rin owes him that much.
Friendship is a funny thing. Relations with anyone, really.
At a biological level, it serves the purpose of survival. But then humans had to go and develop things like sentience, conscious. And those things intensified. Catching feelings, fighting, loving like hell, hating each other silly. It all just turned into a part of the human experience. Rin can't help the tears that spill over, biting his lip.
The last week has been miserable. But he's trying to be considerate, remembering how much worse it must have been for Ai. Being outed, thinking someone he's loved like hell for years hates him, being walked out on, screamed at, manhandled. Rin tries to be sympathetic. In his exhaustion, he can only wrap one arm around Ai's shoulders, but it's enough.
It's not fair he's put his own shit on Ai.
"You shouldn't." He laughs out bitterly. You shouldn't forgive me. Hoarse, almost entirely inaudible. He doesn't move, absolute terror flooding through him that the slightest motion will only set forth whatever had transpired previously. He tries to steady himself, deep breaths. In. Out.
He doesn't give two fucks how Ai feels. Their friendship has stood through it. Even through Rin goading Ai into fucking him so cruelly. Twisting his words. Rin winces again at the thought of Sousuke, and that whole other fucking mess waiting for him at one point or another.
"I want to." The answer to Rin's contrarian knee-jerk is almost comical in its simplicity. No one else gets to decide how I feel. No one else. Not you. It was the same feeling, but in a different context. He chooses forgiveness because-- "There's another day tomorrow. So no sense in looking back." He forgives not for his sake, not for Rin's sake, but because it is the only reasonable choice to make. Being stuck in the past - the both of them! - is what landed them here to begin with.
Holding Rin close serves its purpose, but Rin's stiff reciprocation soon settles into Ai coldly; he has his limits, and he isn't eager to chase Rin right back out the door. Slowly and maybe a bit hesitantly he finally lets go, stepping back to give Rin room. Ai presses a pinky to the inner corner of his eye - he felt the sting, but won't make a mess of himself this time around.
The last time silence fell, Rin bolted. Ai is scared of that happening again, and so nearly opens his mouth to start filling the space. To say shit that doesn't actually help. Except the words don't come. He swallows thick, instead; eyes down at the tea in his hand.
Decides he can be just a little stronger.
"In case I didn't make it clear," he begins, voice gentle and maybe just a little tired, "I don't mind you staying here." Shakes his head, "I'd like for you to stay. It's your space, too." His thumb absently pads over the label on the bottle. "For as long as you need to."
"You're too good to people. You know that, right?" Rin scoffs, blinking down at that phrasing--your space too--he doesn't know what to do with something so selflessly given. There's no lecture or apology that can match it.
It's a complicated gratitude. Ai steps back awkwardly, and Rin tenses up. He thinks he's messed something up again, Ai is disgusted by his neck, his fucking disheveled state, and he grabs at Ai's wrist unconsciously. Only to drop it immediately after, a well of panic fluttering in him at initiating his normally carefree touch. He doesn't want to...
"Sorry." He doesn't even know what he's apologizing for anymore. Ai initiated the touch first. Rin just feels like he broke it. A broken record, sorry being the star of the album. He tries to hang onto the other words instead, trying to fill the silence.
"Thanks." He settles on that. It seems appropriate, more so than whatever slew of words he could lavish onto Ai which could lead just into more misunderstandings, or terse situations. Rin laughs a little, pulling himself off the wall, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Uh, my phones dead... could you just. Let Sousuke know I'm back here?" He doesn't really want to talk to Sousuke right now. That's a whole other can of worms. "I don't need him calling the cops or something for going awol."
When Rin grabs his wrist, he doesn't flinch. But he does balk a little. Rin's always been handsy with him (which absolutely played at least a small part in what led Ai down the path he's now on) but after earlier that week, and after-- everything, Ai might've expected touch between them to be like electrocution, and not the fun kind. But it's... Fine. Rin grabs his wrist, and the world doesn't end. And Ai isn't sure what to make of that, but suspects maybe he'd been too eager to try and read Rin's mind.
His smile is lopsided, but genuine, and a little apologetic. Ai decides for just a moment to cup the side of Rin's jaw; tenderly stroke his cheek with his thumb. Just regards him, softly. No malice. Letting Rin, for that moment, look right into him to see the depths if he wanted to.
Then Rin talks pragmatic, and Ai rescinds his hand again, the bottle of tea almost like a lifeline for his anxious body. He swallows at the mention of Sousuke; seems his gut had been right on. He looks to Rin once before padding across the apartment to go and grab his own phone.
"Sure." It's on his desk, plugged into the wall, so Ai takes it off the charger. Places the bottle down to be able to handle his phone, scrolling to Sousuke's contact, doing as asked. Walks slowly back toward the center of the apartment, toward Rin... Pauses to look up at him, eyebrows knit.
"Does he know?" About us? A pretty dumb question, but. Ai needs to know exactly how much he'll have to grovel later. Before Rin can get any ideas, Ai clarifies, "Not that I mind. But if he does, I know he'll have questions." Sousuke had been the only person Ai ever confided in about his feelings, only made easy because their irreciprocity was mutual. He had gotten the impression Sousuke had gotten over himself, but who's to say what a bitten up, miserable Rin showing up on his doorstep might've unearthed?
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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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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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Date: 2025-07-25 03:09 am (UTC)It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of it was.
"When have I ever left? When?" Ai is so desperate to get through to Rin, he's far past the point of being precious about his feelings anymore. About that which he has obfuscated for so long. But there was more to it than that: so potently, as a visceral need, he feels he has to communicate that the way he's treated Rin historically, the way he's regarded him, tried to be there for him, was not motivated. Never a means to an end, always just a friend looking out for his fellow. In the grand scheme of things, his ardor had very little affect on it all.
"Did I leave when you hit your lows in first year, too? Did I leave when I knew you were chasing Nanase-san? When I didn't make the relay team? Show me when." He furiously wipes at his face. "Show me one instance when I ever left." He knows Rin can't. It's more forward than he might usually be - it's more pushy, it's more selfish in its desire to prove a point to Rin. But Ai feels he has to get through to him somehow.
Hearing his family name makes him stiffen, a wave of deep, tar-like anxiety rolling over his system, thick and unyielding. It hurts, but. He can come to expect this much from Rin; after their conversation just before, understands it to not be personal. He can dress his wounds later; he still has a greater duty here, in service to something greater than what he holds in his chest.
Rin's grotesque comment has Ai shaking his head, lowly, just once. "It wasn't that at all." Despite all of this, despite them flat-out arguing, Ai flushes. "I-- wanted to. But I also understood the context. I thought," pause, breath, "I thought as soon as you were done you'd want to put it behind us. Doing it inside would have only dragged it out."
But Rin just keeps going. It's a deluge. He's throwing knives and trying to see what sticks and Ai knows it, has the metaphoric blood pouring out of his torso to prove it. His bottom lip quivers - pathetic. He sniffs, tries to keep a grip on his composure. And looks away at first, because confronting Rin with the reality of what he's sat on for so long is too large a burden to bear. Ai feels he can't do it, even for Rin's sake. But after a moment's hesitation, sky blue eyes lock on deep, dark crimson, all unmitigated determination and anguish and ardor, all at once. He endures, because he has to.
"But that's exactly it. I didn't want anything from you, Rin-senpai." The name's heavy on his tongue. "Whether or not I was honest, it wouldn't change anything. Not in the way I came to you," His god damn lip going again-- Ai rubs at his mouth with the back of his hand, sets his jaw. No more. Enough. "And not in the way you come to me. We both know that."
He fists his hands in his hair. Hangs his head low.
"But no matter how useless it is, it's living proof there's at least one person on this earth who will stay. You can try all you like, but I'm not going anywhere. I just can't."
A sob rips its way out from his throat.
"Sorry."
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Date: 2025-07-25 03:47 am (UTC)"You're not some fucking saint." His voice cracks, he's running out of argument. Running out of ways to spin this in his favor, but Ai is persistently stubborn. And still right fucking here. His voice turns frantic, Ai looks too much like somebody who cares, and Rin can't stand it.
"Good for you. You fucking stayed." It's a lame ass argument. He's grasping at straws. All he can do is try to tack something more appropriate on. "Watched me make a fool of myself. You were always there. Out of everyone else."
Still. Rin's something more akin to a cornered dog, baring his teeth, lashing and snapping out in some attempts to give himself space.
"Maybe you should have said something when I wanted someone to, ever think of that? Not when I'm losing my mind?" Rin barks out, a sobbing laugh ripping out of him. But then Ai fucking apologizes. Sorry. And Rin wants to scream. He wants to rip his hair out, because that's not at all what he wants.
Why? Why can't people just fucking leave well enough alone? Why is Ai like this?? He's the one apologizing. For all of this, out of all people. Rin chokes out a sob, slamming his fist against the tile wall. The sting is a small relief, the only thing he has in this mess.
"Why? Why do you want to stay??"
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Date: 2025-07-25 03:59 am (UTC)"You never asked." And why would he? Rin always had his sights on someone else. He never had an incentive to know, such was Ai's measure. A sudden confession from his roommate, or his third-best-friend wouldn't have changed a damn thing. Might've only cornered Rin, maybe even made him feel gross. Estranged their relationship, lengthening the miles between them.
Why? Why do you want to stay??
His eyebrows knit for a moment, but then there's a modicum of peace that crosses his countenance - as if for the first time since they started yelling and arguing, he's had a thought of pure clarity. Something so simple it may as well be banal. The sky is blue, the ocean is vast, the birds sing--
"Because I've always admired you."
He finally does smile, watery as it is. "And because you're my friend. It really is as simple as that."
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Date: 2025-07-25 04:26 am (UTC)The words throb in his head. A dull echo pounding alongside the migraine that's already beginning to blossom. Everything else loses touch with reality. His retort at not needing to ask, because they're friends goddamnit and Ai should trust him-
It's deadly silent. Only the water crashing down around them any indication of life. Because suddenly, Rin is 17 again, back to back with his best friend and all he can hear is the hum of a fan and the crack in his voice. "I've always admired you. From the day we met..." And here Ai is. Feeding him the same goddamn line.
The universe hates him. Just a cosmic joke.
His voice is ragged when it finally slips free. "Don't--don't say that." It's frantic. "Jesus christ. You too?? Is that the script everyone's passing around now?" Finally Rin begins to step towards the door, panic fluttering in his gaze. The crocodile tears are back in full force now, all out on display.
"You didn't tell me because you didn't want to burden me? That it, right? Fuck you."
He swipes a hand through his hair, tearing at the seams, fumbling around for his tank top forgotten in the corner. His jaw is clenching so tight, it aches. The silence is too much, too final. Too heavy. Rin sinks his teeth into his lip as he pulls the stained clothing back on with hardly a grimace.
But Rin is taking even a moment of silence as finality right now, and he fumbles for the door. He needs to get out. It's too much. He casts a look at Ai, feeling the blood well from his lip.
"I-- I need to go. I'm sorry." He doesn't comment where, he hasn't gotten that far yet. All he knows is he's a parasite here. This is Ai's home and he's fucking sullied it. Selfishly taken up residency like a goddamn cockroach. Made his neighbor's probably hate him between the books, the fucking and the screaming in the middle of the night. Rin doesn't even care that it's still a fucking monsoon ouside.
Because he's just grabbing his phone, shoving the remainder of his clothes on and veering out the door like he's just been burned. But he's considerate in one thing at least, and doesn't slam the door behind him. He's already caused enough damage for one night. For a lifetime.
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Date: 2025-07-25 06:01 am (UTC)That it, right? Fuck you. It's all he can do to stare. Rin had the right of it this time - nuances be damned. Before he can even open his mouth to try and form words, Rin's already made up his mind. He's moving, picking up his stuff. Ai wonders if the apology is more for Rin or for himself as Rin books it out the door.
It comes in waves. Grief, agony, confusion, regret. Perhaps it's a blessing Rin's taken off, he isn't around to hear the guttural sobbing Ai looses amidst the shower room, water now running cold.
When he finally collects himself enough to exit into the apartment, he isn't sure what to think at seeing that Rin's bag is still there. Relief at first. Despite everything, Ai still wanted this to be the place Rin would return. Even if it meant difficult conversations and new normals. His chest feels so heavy, but this is some amount of reprieve.
The rest is a bit of a blur, his head pounding from the yelling, the tears shed, having been under the water for so long-- he is certain his neighbours are going to issue a noise complaint tomorrow. He cleans up the kitchen, careful not to nick himself on the shattered porcelain. Places the abandoned mug in the sink. Takes off Rin's sheets and lays out a fresh set for him.
He lays down on his bed, on top of the covers. Back turned to the apartment, staring blearily at the curtained window, listening to the harsh batter of the rain against the glass. He wants to make sure Rin is alright, but knows he needs space - Ai isn't foolish enough to run out for him. So he waits. Eyes closed, despite sleep being a long gone conclusion.
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Date: 2025-07-25 10:57 am (UTC)Rin goes to Sousuke's first. Showing up on his doorstep in the middle of a storm, shaking and sobbing for a multitude of reasons. It only makes his friend's eyes widen, as he yanks him inside. It's some small blessing his brother isn't there to see him in such a humiliating state. It's bad enough Sousuke had to see it. His neck marred, soaking wet, barely able to stand from the night's activities and Rin's own inner turmoil. All while sobs continue to spill in half coherent chokes.
It doesn't last more than two days, however.
Because Sousuke doesn't press the first twenty four hours. He makes his bed up for Rin, and just lets him sob himself to sleep. He knows Rin gets nightmares in this weather, but he's not stupid either. And so Rin blankly sleeps for the next ten hours. It's awkward when he awakens, and Sousuke is sitting right there at his desk like he never moved at all. But a few hours later, he finally presses.
"You look like shit."
And something in Rin jolts, and they do what they do best after another day of awkwardly skirting around it. Fight it out, until Rin is storming out. Because he knows Sousuke is right. He's not going to hold back, and he doesn't. There's some panicked confusion in Rin's voice when the accusatory words slip out. The 'why did you never tell me's. And Sousuke stays stoic as he can through that argument. Fuck, did everyone know about how Ai feels except Rin himself?
But then Sousuke just gets this sad smile, and something in Rin is gutted. Because his retort is quiet. "How could someone not feel that way?" And Rin isn't fucking ready for this conversation either, because he knows exactly what that soft smile entails, that miserable glaze hovering over his eyes.
And so Rin leaves Sousuke's in that similar fashion.
His phone has long since died. Not that he wants to look at whoever is texting him anyways. He wants to go home. Rin just wants to curl up against his mom on the couch, but she doesn't even know he's back in the country and trekking all the way home looking like this isn't what a good son does.
So Rin does something he's not necessarily proud of for the next two nights.
But night four, he comes back because there's no running from this forever. He's surprised his key still works, truth be told. The smile on his face is a bitter thing, upon the realization. Maybe it's more self sabotaging than anything as he limps through the genkan, slipping off his shoes as quietly as possible. There's dark bags under his eyes, his jacket pulled up; a miserable shielding of the black and blue coating his neck like a scarf. Intensified from whatever Ai left the other night. Deep and smeared.
He can't even bring himself to look into the apartment at first, too miserable to see what mess might still linger. Just staring blankly down at himself. He has a small bag, some stupid sort of peace offering. An olive branch. It's just one of Ai's favorite drinks. Stupid in the grand scheme of things, but.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 02:37 pm (UTC)By day two, he starts worrying. Feels stuck and beside himself. His instinct is to reach out to Sousuke; Ai would have bet Rin had contacted him by now. Haruka was out of the question, which also put Makoto out of the question, and Ai knows both Nagisa and Rei are too far for Rin to consider bunking with, even temporarily. It was triangulation... But if he's there, it's because he's trying to outrun me. If I call, I only make it worse. Never mind touching upon that which he and Sousuke had sought for solace in one another. Ai doesn't think he could ever forgive himself for accidentally putting that on full display to Sousuke now, in the form of a miserable Matsuoka with the bite marks to prove it.
Day three is when he starts sending texts. He wants to trust Rin, and so they aren't panicked - try not to be. Don't beg him either. But on the off chance Rin still had service or didn't outright block him, Ai did what he could to make it evident Rin still had a space.
Are you alright?
There's discounts on gyuudon today.
I think you left your charger.
Please be careful. There's high winds today.
Day four is when the panic manifests. Not only out of human worry for Rin, who is god knows where in Tokyo at the moment, and Ai too afraid to text their only probable mutual friend to know for sure. But for his future; the All Japan was right around the corner. After this entire ordeal, would Rin even be fit to compete? Ai himself had qualified, but was definitely not making any cuts this time around either. A foregone conclusion the moment Rin had dragged him by the collar and kissed him. Ai is a mental wreck at the idea that he might be partially responsible for neglecting Rin the chance to chase his dream fully.
He's gone to work; he's gone to classes; he's swam. Worked out, fed himself, showered. Went on as normally as he could. But every single evening he returns to his apartment, it is as if a bellowing yawn is waiting for an opportunity to swallow him whole.
He is trying - and failing - to go over some study work when he hears the front door unlock. Ai swivels in his chair, line of sight pinning directly across the apartment and on crestfallen red hair. Ai jolts up to his feet, about to run the length of his apartment to Rin-- but pauses. Suddenly is painfully aware of the miles and miles and miles between them. His hand grips the edge of his desk, white-knuckled...
But his eyes are blown wide, glassy with utter relief. Of the maelstrom swirling in his chest, this is the most poignant feeling. His chest rises and falls heavily.
"W--," he begins. Stops. Then commits, "Welcome home."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 02:54 pm (UTC)He hates feeling like he's disturbed the very space he dares to occupy, even just by standing.
"I--" Rin falters. He stares at the floor, before forcing himself to move across the small space. It's only to shove the bag into Ai's arms and step back towards the doorway. Like he isn't sure if he belongs here anymore. Home. His stomach lurches. Rin shifts a little, leaning back against the wall near the door. His jacket sticks to his skin, his hair dripping.
Everything looks normal. There's no shattered porcelain, or messed up sheets. Everything looks... normal. Rin swallows around nothing. There's a part of him that just wants to crawl against the futon without another word. But that's the coward's way. And he's been so much of that recently. With everyone. He goes back to grabbing his own wrist, the pressure a nice grounding through this whole mess. He's exhausted. The last time he got any decent rest was at Sousuke's. And before that it was night after night of none through the storms.
His neck aches. His body is stiff. But that fear of occupying space leaks back into him. He's stiff from where he stands. Until finally, Rin tries speaking again.
"...I'm sorry."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 03:28 pm (UTC)He watches with that same wide-eyed stare as Rin crosses the space with such speed the floor may as well be made of tacks, shoves a bag in Ai's hand, and then retreats back to the mouth of the studio.
Ai isn't so sure what to do next. What he wants to do differs from when he knows he should do, and both differ from his instinct. He peeks inside the bag - a lemon tea, one of his favourites. The way his chest suddenly feels as if it's about to burst is in and of itself a betrayal, but god damnit, he can't help the way his mouth tries to smile against his cheeks. Not because Rin remembered, or because it's his favourite - but because Rin's trying. It was the little bit Ai needed to feel as if not everything had been lost.
Rather than overthink them both into another argument, Ai decides to lean fully into his intuition. There was nothing to hide anymore - was his rationale. So he takes the lemon tea out of the bag and crosses about half-way over toward Rin, near to his futon. Looks to him with a gentle shake of his head. I forgive you. But if Rin knows Ai, he knows that forgiveness is implicit. I'm sorry, too. Ai swallows down his running thoughts to maintain his composure, eyes flitting over Rin's form to take him in gently.
"It's okay." It's said almost hushed; loud enough to make sure Rin registers, quiet enough that Ai can move past it quickly. He's leaning forward a little then, as if wanting to step closer but not quite having the courage at first. Then, suddenly, decides he's done holding back for Rin's sake; that's half of the reason they've gotten to this point. So he steps closer, just barely in Rin's space, an arm's length away. Ai tries to find his eyes.
"Are you alright?" he doesn't mean emotionally, not that he'd expect Rin to reply as such anyway; he's worried about Rin's condition. Four days is a long time to be a vagabond. "Have you eaten? You're soaking wet..." I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 03:38 pm (UTC)But he doesn't flinch when Ai encroaches on his space. He just doesn't know what to do with it. He looks a little surprised at the proximity. Because at the end of the day, Rin didn't say anything back. Because he doesn't know what to say. He's not sure he even deserves the look that crosses Ai's gaze when he brims with recognition at the tea of all things.
"I'm alright." He lies first, because that instinct wins out the aggression for once. He lets his gaze drift back to the floor, rocking back on his heels.
"Yeah. I ate." He doesn't go into detail about the abysmal amount he's eaten, or what specifically. But that isn't a lie at least. Rin shifts again. "It's just raining again." He flinches under the implication that he was out in storms at all, when Ai knows damn well how his psyche cracks under it. But he tries to brush that subject aside, because isn't that what started this whole mess to begin with?
It's precarious, the way he lingers there. Ai's kindness is undoing him in real time, and it's a terrifying prospect. "I'm sorry for the shit I said. I'm really sorry."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 04:03 pm (UTC)The ugly truth is that it all still hurt. Both the things Rin said and didn't say. Ai still wears those wounds and didn't do enough to dress them appropriately, leaving him every bit as raw as the man currently apologizing to him again. But this, too, Ai internalizes as his own fault. If he hadn't caught feelings; if he'd kept his mouth shut. If he'd been a better friend, been more present, been something better than he is. But Ai knows grief is a process, and it starts like this.
He hesitates for a moment before closing the space between them, arms enveloping Rin in an embrace. Timid at first, and then vicelike in how closely he holds Rin against his chest, Ai's knuckles furling against the back of Rin's rain-sopped clothes. Shoulders stiffen and expression twisting with all his relief, all his eagerness to move through this, burying his face in the side of Rin's neck to conceal it.
"It's okay," he repeats. And then says it explicitly to make sure Rin gets it, "I forgive you." Grips him a little tighter. "I'm glad you came back."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 04:14 pm (UTC)Friendship is a funny thing. Relations with anyone, really.
At a biological level, it serves the purpose of survival. But then humans had to go and develop things like sentience, conscious. And those things intensified. Catching feelings, fighting, loving like hell, hating each other silly. It all just turned into a part of the human experience. Rin can't help the tears that spill over, biting his lip.
The last week has been miserable. But he's trying to be considerate, remembering how much worse it must have been for Ai. Being outed, thinking someone he's loved like hell for years hates him, being walked out on, screamed at, manhandled. Rin tries to be sympathetic. In his exhaustion, he can only wrap one arm around Ai's shoulders, but it's enough.
It's not fair he's put his own shit on Ai.
"You shouldn't." He laughs out bitterly. You shouldn't forgive me. Hoarse, almost entirely inaudible. He doesn't move, absolute terror flooding through him that the slightest motion will only set forth whatever had transpired previously. He tries to steady himself, deep breaths. In. Out.
He doesn't give two fucks how Ai feels. Their friendship has stood through it. Even through Rin goading Ai into fucking him so cruelly. Twisting his words. Rin winces again at the thought of Sousuke, and that whole other fucking mess waiting for him at one point or another.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 04:41 pm (UTC)Holding Rin close serves its purpose, but Rin's stiff reciprocation soon settles into Ai coldly; he has his limits, and he isn't eager to chase Rin right back out the door. Slowly and maybe a bit hesitantly he finally lets go, stepping back to give Rin room. Ai presses a pinky to the inner corner of his eye - he felt the sting, but won't make a mess of himself this time around.
The last time silence fell, Rin bolted. Ai is scared of that happening again, and so nearly opens his mouth to start filling the space. To say shit that doesn't actually help. Except the words don't come. He swallows thick, instead; eyes down at the tea in his hand.
Decides he can be just a little stronger.
"In case I didn't make it clear," he begins, voice gentle and maybe just a little tired, "I don't mind you staying here." Shakes his head, "I'd like for you to stay. It's your space, too." His thumb absently pads over the label on the bottle. "For as long as you need to."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 04:51 pm (UTC)It's a complicated gratitude. Ai steps back awkwardly, and Rin tenses up. He thinks he's messed something up again, Ai is disgusted by his neck, his fucking disheveled state, and he grabs at Ai's wrist unconsciously. Only to drop it immediately after, a well of panic fluttering in him at initiating his normally carefree touch. He doesn't want to...
"Sorry." He doesn't even know what he's apologizing for anymore. Ai initiated the touch first. Rin just feels like he broke it. A broken record, sorry being the star of the album. He tries to hang onto the other words instead, trying to fill the silence.
"Thanks." He settles on that. It seems appropriate, more so than whatever slew of words he could lavish onto Ai which could lead just into more misunderstandings, or terse situations. Rin laughs a little, pulling himself off the wall, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Uh, my phones dead... could you just. Let Sousuke know I'm back here?" He doesn't really want to talk to Sousuke right now. That's a whole other can of worms. "I don't need him calling the cops or something for going awol."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 05:12 pm (UTC)His smile is lopsided, but genuine, and a little apologetic. Ai decides for just a moment to cup the side of Rin's jaw; tenderly stroke his cheek with his thumb. Just regards him, softly. No malice. Letting Rin, for that moment, look right into him to see the depths if he wanted to.
Then Rin talks pragmatic, and Ai rescinds his hand again, the bottle of tea almost like a lifeline for his anxious body. He swallows at the mention of Sousuke; seems his gut had been right on. He looks to Rin once before padding across the apartment to go and grab his own phone.
"Sure." It's on his desk, plugged into the wall, so Ai takes it off the charger. Places the bottle down to be able to handle his phone, scrolling to Sousuke's contact, doing as asked. Walks slowly back toward the center of the apartment, toward Rin... Pauses to look up at him, eyebrows knit.
"Does he know?" About us? A pretty dumb question, but. Ai needs to know exactly how much he'll have to grovel later. Before Rin can get any ideas, Ai clarifies, "Not that I mind. But if he does, I know he'll have questions." Sousuke had been the only person Ai ever confided in about his feelings, only made easy because their irreciprocity was mutual. He had gotten the impression Sousuke had gotten over himself, but who's to say what a bitten up, miserable Rin showing up on his doorstep might've unearthed?
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