for @buttterfly - post-tfln

[taeru]

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[taeru]

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.

[buttterfly]

"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."

[taeru]

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."

[buttterfly]

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.

[taeru]

"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."

[buttterfly]

"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."

[taeru]

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?

[buttterfly]

There's a little shrill of panic at Ai's tone. How he seems to retreat back into himself at the mention. Shit shit shit shit shit. Rin didn't mean it like that. He feels Ai jerkily pull his hand back. Because Ai is giving him a look. And Rin clams up for a moment. Even as Ai clarifies, there was no hiding that spark of hurt he had worn prior.

"It's not like--yeah he knows, but." Rin scrambles for the right phrasing. There's no way to really make any of this look good. So he swallows and tries to settle on the lesser of two evils.

"We got into it, and I left after the first night. That's it, I swear." He realizes that makes it sound even worse. Rin tries to clarify, running one hand up to tug at his hair, the sting keeping him there. "He knows all he needs to. I mean. You guys can talk about it, that's not--" Shit he's doing it again. He tries to take a deep breath in.

"I'm not saying you can't if he has questions. Sorry."

[taeru]

Matsuoka Rin stumbling over himself to explain something relatively simple is. Something. Ai feels bad that his gut reaction is to laugh.

It's a lilted noise, airy and a bit hoarse. Looks at Rin apologetically through crinkled eyes because Ai is very much laughing at him right now, something between a titter and a chuckle.

"Senpai, it's okay. I promise I won't bite." He can tell Rin's developed some sensitivities... It hurts Ai to know that he's become a landmine, but he's confident he and Rin can work through it together. The best way to start is by trying to be the level of candid he wishes Rin would be with him, even if it's difficult.

"I trust you, and I trust him."

But Rin says something.

And in what he doesn't say, Ai's mind tries filling in the blanks. It makes his BPM spike irrationally, a thick green wave threatening to overtake him-- and then he wills himself to be just a little stronger.

"If you left, where else have you been?" The idea of Rin just being-- out doesn't occur to Ai. In all his selfishness, his brain leaps to Rin having finally sought out Haruka. Ai needs to hear it for himself.

[buttterfly]

There's a little playfulness in Ai's tone that makes Rin bristle. Which Ai immediately goes to soothe, which just makes Rin groan in response. He wants to say 'actually yeah you do', but the tone change again just puts him on edge.

He doesn't answer right away, mouth agape like he's clambering over words. The laugh that trickles after is low and humorless. He scratches the back of his neck a bit. He tugs at his collar self consciously.

"Just. With some guy I used to know."

There's no pride or sneer in it, like how he threw Sousuke and Haru's name around a few days ago. But he's still not able to look at Ai.

"Has a couch. I just needed somewhere to sleep."

Rin's guilt ridden. It's easy when you hate yourself, and are riled up from two fights with close friends and being dumped by another prior, to slip into self deprecation. But he quickly tacks on, because he's really not beating these slut allegations right now--

"We didn't-- he just. Really likes to bite when he's trashed. Like a lot." It's easy to offer up your mouth and neck as payment for a place to sleep and somebody completely unaffiliated to either party. Or parties. And maybe Rin partook in a few too many too, and he wishes he hadn't but. What's done is done.

It would have been easy to go to Haru. Rin almost wishes he had. But that would have required spilling everything that happened and Rin is a downright coward. Telling Sousuke was bad enough. But Haru?

[taeru]

"I see."

Ai can't pinpoint the sensation that itches in his chest. Not quite jealousy, not quite frustration. Rooted in something more symbiotic - a worry. But not quite. Ai realizes then what he feels is some level of distrust. A worry that Rin isn't telling a whole truth; a worry Rin's put himself in harm's way and lying about it. That he was self-flagellating and is obfuscating it. But Ai can't be sure, and he'd be wrong to judge transgressions, even if the way Rin's been rubbing at and minding his neck this entire time suddenly makes sense, and makes a pit form in his stomach.

He didn't really put much thought into marking Rin, when he did. Wanted to, clearly, but didn't expect it to last. Yet the thought of it being covered up by someone else entirely makes his stomach sink. The idea Rin felt he had to in order to guarantee a roof over his head after a stint outside caused by Ai makes that knot twist tighter.

"I'm," Ai begins, forcefully covering up the selfish and untoward scorn with the deeper well of concern he feels on his countenance, "Very, very glad you're safe." His hand tightens around his phone, held still in front of him before his hand falls to his side. "And I'm sorry what happened led to that recourse... You shouldn't have been made to feel you had to leave in the first place. To Sousuke-senpai's or otherwise."

When he can even be outpaced by a stranger. That Rin felt safer prostrating in exchange for a couch to crash on than he did staying here. It mollywops Ai's psyche, and it's all he can do not to focus on it too much because he knows ultimately it isn't important. Even worse still, there is a sick part of him that is glad it wasn't Haruka after all.

"You must feel exhausted. Look at you," Ai beckons, "All that and you came in the rain, too." Ai shakes his head softly, minds himself as best he can. "Go take a bath? I can get your clothes in the dryer." Normalcy. He's trying so hard, even if he knows he's not really fooling either of them right now. But he has learned that his earnest has consequences, and isn't eager to stoke a second walk-out.

[buttterfly]

His fingers drift unconsciously to the bruises littering his neck. Somehow, he feels that judgement. Like Ai is carefully looking over everything about Rin in that moment, pinpointing exactly what transpired over those few days. Or worse yet, maybe Ai just doesn't believe him at all. Rin sinks inwardly a little.

It wouldn't be wrong for Ai to assume the worst. Rin is an asshole, and untrustworthy with certain things. Keeping his temper in check around them, for sure. His gaze flickers over Ai's. Tiredness. Shame. There's some core need to be understood, but he understands if that's not something Ai can jive with any longer. Or ever again.

He ignores the offer for help momentarily, shifting back a little, shoving his hands into his pockets. It's easy to make yourself appear small. He knows something is troubling Ai, but he has no right to dig in and pry. Has no right to ask why. So all he can do is meekly try something else.

"...did I do something wrong?"

Rin ventures; a bold move. He's done a lot wrong. But something about how Ai reacted to the possibility of Rin being somewhere else, with someone else, tugs at him strangely.

"I'm sorry. You can be pissed. I'm just sorry if I made you pissed off."

[taeru]

He wasn't expecting that.

When last had he given Rin a reason to even need to be introspective? First year, he thinks. Rin had barked and Ai barked back and it was one of only a handful of times he had seen Rin so thoroughly disarmed. This time it's different. This time it's because Ai is a walking glass case, transparent, and he can't even do himself the favour of trying to keep a lid on it anymore, let alone doing it for Rin.

He supposes, in hindsight, this is perhaps the worst part of it all being in the open. When he had everything to lose, he had more motivation to keep it all in check. Tightly filtered expressions, carefully chosen words. A perfect lie - and a miracle, at that, for someone who was so fundamentally bad at being anything but forthright. But now the guise is over, and with it so is Ai's tightly held control. The consequence of that is letting things bleed through for all to see - Rin included.

Shame crawls up his spine and sits heavily on the back of his tongue. He'd take being rejected or called by someone else's name in bed a thousand times over if it meant he never had to feel this pathetic and vulnerable again.

"No, you did what you had to," he answers honestly, at first staring down at the floor but then looking at Rin with crinkled eyes and a simper, bittersweet. "It's me. I feel bad I put you in that position." But you're still not being honest. His lips form around the start of a syllable that seems intent to keep itself lodged in the back of his throat.

"And I feel bad for feeling jealous." As if Rin needs more guilt. Ai has half a wish that Rin cares so little he doesn't have it in him to even feel guilty. "But that's on me."

[buttterfly]

Something sobering flutters in him.

There's certain things now, being out in the open, that change things. It's not something that Rin is creeped out by or thinks is wrong. It's not something to side step or tip toe, maybe just something to be considerate of. Which Rin is... notoriously bad at sometimes. Guilt lodges itself in his throat, and he stares at the wall.

"Ai," He starts, unsure of how to spin this. Because there's really no way to deflect or room to grow aggressive over it. It's not fair. He swallows, his face feels hot with shame.

"I'm sorry." Is there anything else he can really say to that? Except he hurriedly tacks on "It's not your fault. I could have just gone back home, or stuck it out at Sousuke's." Except Rin knows he couldn't have. Not with that newfound knowledge that's still eating at him. It feels a bit like he can't have friends that don't want to get into his pants. One is fair. Two is coincidence. Three is awkward. Four is downright cruel. His fingers tighten around his wrist, that grounding pressure.

"You can...feel what you want you know." Not like Ai needs Rin's permission, but he wants to toss it out there anyways. "It's not going to make me upset. Mad, sad, don't believe me--whatever."

[taeru]

Oh, how he hates that look Rin's just given him.

"But it just did, senpai."

It's a new feeling. Molten wax poured over his skin and ripped back up. Turns out, Ai was still only human, and inferred rejection made manifest still hurts. And worse than that is the new knowledge that he's put Rin on the backfoot. Rin, who even at his lowest had moments of consideration. Who always, always looked after his friends, who carried such a strong well of emotion inside of him-- Ai was an idiot for thinking for even a second Rin would feel anything but guilty.

Nothing good happens when it comes from me. It hurts him; it hurts Rin. Right there in the mouth of his apartment, phone clutched white-knuckled in his hands, Ai resolves to close the cage and lock it again. This isn't tenable; it isn't fair. If he knew the thoughts currently cycling through Rin's head, Ai may have even ejected himself out of his own apartment and handed Rin the key.

It's like a switch is flipped, and that familiar reassuring yet somewhat hollow smile plasters itself just barely to the corners of his lips. It's enough. No more.

"And anyway, it's not important. If you sit there sopping wet for a minute longer, you'll catch a cold."

[buttterfly]

It somehow feels like being back at square one all of a sudden.

Something in the room shifts. And with it, something in Rin sinks. Enough to make him shift a little further against the wall, like it might swallow him whole. It's one thing to try to be considerate after a monumental fuckup. It's another thing entirely to actually stick the landing when you've shattered things so irreparably.

That hollow look. The empty smile, that feels like it's been pressed on with superglue. Rin's gaze turns miserable, but he does what he can to try to match it with a soft smile of his own; fake as it may be.

"Ah. Yeah."

He tries plastering on that warm grin, but it feels as fake as everything else right now. He shrugs his sopping jacket off, hanging it up and retreats to his bag for a much needed change of clothes. Rin is not a diva by any means [lol ok] but having worn the same clothes for days is disgusting. And he really shouldn't say no to a shower.

"Would serve me right." He laughs softly, pulling out a t shirt, and some sleep pants with a pair of boxers hastily stuffed between them--like underwear is something to be ashamed of all of a sudden--before he pauses. The apologies feel emptier and emptier, the more he has to reiterate them.

"For what it's worth... you're allowed to take up as much space as you give to others."

[taeru]

He's stuck enough in his own head that he forgets his rudiments. Had perhaps spent too much time the past four days playing over he and Rin's argument in his head, on repeat like a broken disc. Had forgotten that Rin is perceptive, scented to blood the moment it blooms in water. And when Rin cares, it's a dangerous, unwavering thing.

Ai doesn't know how to fix any of it. How to make it so things could just be normal, even a little bit. Evidently, retreating was not the answer; it only made sense Rin would give chase. He was competitive like that. It leaves him frustrated. If he thinks on it even harder, he and Rin had never fought like that before; stubbornly, Ai acquiesces to himself that it's only natural for things to feel this stiff and off after such an ordeal. If he really, really looks inward, what he's reacting to most isn't even Rin. It's just himself. The plain, bare acknowledgment that he has changed, and doesn't know how to move forward through uncharted waters. How to navigate a wall that seems so insurmountable.

Rin shucks off his jacket and Ai can't help the way he flicks a glance in his direction. Has to see the evidence for himself. He doesn't have it in him to be hurt, dodging the gut churning anxiety he'd felt just a minute ago. It's as if he's already resigned. I should have left more is his first thought. Pinches his brows as he turns around to walk in to the apartment. Would he let me now? I doubt it. Pathetic rumination, and it's with an overly dramatic sigh that Ai flops into the far corner of the couch, close enough to Rin if he chose to engage and chit-chat, but far enough away to grant him space and privacy while he changed - and the option to disengage entirely. Speaking of taking up space--

"Senpai, I have no idea what that's supposed to mean." His voice is organically a little frustrated, a little exasperated, and yet the tail end of a lilt. It's familiar. He sits low, tucked into the armrest, head lolled over it with his legs crossed in front of him to minimize his footprint on the sofa. Pauses a moment before lifting his head to look at Rin, almost deadpan. "You shouldn't invite trouble."

[buttterfly]

It's easy to plaster a fake smile on his face.

It's harder to shove away the frown that threatens to creep over him.

He knows there's a shift in the atmosphere of this place. Whether it's from the raw fucking on his futon, the angry words in the shower or Ai's gaze drifting to his neck suspiciously, hard to say. But Rin knows he's the root of all evil here, and he tries to minimize his impact so much it's painfully obvious. Meticulous in putting his things where they below, toeing around the apartment like he's an apparition of some kind.

All the while his gaze keeps shifting to Ai, claiming a spot on the couch quietly. Until it's not quiet anymore, and Rin has to rummage around in his brain for any semblance of an answer. What does he mean by that? There's exasperation fresh in Ai's voice, and it throws Rin off guard. He tenses up.

"Uh." An excellent way to start an answer to a direct question. "Invite-- what?" He dares to venture, standing behind the couch, his clothing tight in his arms. That gaze makes him take a step back, that tiny frown finally curling over his features. One born more out of confusion than frustration or anger.

[taeru]

Ai can't tell if Rin is being sincere or not, but when the silence after his blank invite what? lasts for longer than Ai can take in an inhale, he knows Rin's uncertainty is the real thing. And now Ai is really exasperated, eyebrows a heavy line over his eyes as he contorts himself to be looking up at Rin who stands behind the couch now.

If Rin squints, he might see the faintest hint of a pout - it's what Ai's trying to fight away from his face, the natural progression of his simultaneous frustration and stubborn disposition.

"What space would I be taking up that I wasn't already?" He's leading the question - wants Rin to figure out for himself what exactly he's saying before he doubles down on it. If all that's tangibly changed is the mutual if silent and vague acknowledgment of how Ai feels, the space to be taken up is something else entirely, and Ai would bet his whole ass that is not what Rin meant.

[buttterfly]

Oof. Okay. He winces a little under the tone, grasping the meaning Ai was trying to insinuate now. He's exhausted, it's hard to think logically after such an emotionally rocking near-week. Rin swallows, his thumb brushing over the clothes in his hands.

Only to be followed immediately by a sigh.

There's only so much he can do to fix things. He didn't know, couldn't have known without verbal confirmation about Ai's feelings before asking to move in here, before grappling with his insecurities and goading him into a fueled fuck fest. Rin levels his breathing a little, keeping his gaze firm.

"Right. Sorry." He harbors another apology, it's all he can think to offer in these volatile times. If only to keep their moods tapered, allow this place to become a safe space once more.

"Just letting you know I want to listen when you have something to say. that's all." He pushes off the couch, casting one more glance at the front door before heading into the bathroom.

[taeru]

If Ai had a yen coin for every apology Rin's dropped since he's come back, Ai could sponsor the All Japan himself. It's a funny thing, really. Can tell Rin's just trying to find footing among the wreckage - what Ai had misinterpreted as Rin treating him and their mess like eggshells is instead him, too, trying to find his normal again. Ai has to imagine Rin's had one hell of a run with it. Can't even begin to think why he'd get into a fight with Sousuke and have to leave-- well. Ai could guess, but for everyone's sakes, hopes that isn't the case.

Doesn't want to think about what came after. Can't. His jealousy is overpowered by his raw, unconditional concern for Rin, and how much worse that could have been if it wasn't a friend.

"Okay." It's spoken gently, a finite acknowledgment. As Rin heads toward the bathroom, though, Ai has his first instance of embodying this which Rin has asked of him. He does so with a determined look in his eye, and maybe a bit vulnerable.

"Just don't treat me differently." His expression softens a little, along with his voice, as if he's disarmed by his own insistence. "Please. That's all I ask. Not because of--" vaguely gesturing, "this," by which he means that, "and not because of what happened." I need you to be able to look me in the eye and not see one massive mistake.

[buttterfly]

Rin lingers in the bathroom doorway, letting Ai's words sink in. The captain in him proud that Ai is immediately asserting himself and giving into the permission Rin has laid out for him. The other wants to retort something, but he swallows down the temptation, leaning against the trim instead.

"I won't." He reassures quietly. There's no guarantee they will be able to slip back into old habits so easily. There's unbandaged wounds, fresh and raw, still. Rin can sit and lap at them all day, worry with it, but it won't make it go any easier. His fingers curl a little around the bundle of clothes, whatever he can right now.

"Promise." He tacks on lightly with a lopsided smile, knowing full well they will try and try and try, but there's no guarantee to any of these things. After all, how do you go back to treating someone the same, after that kind of situation? Any of them really.

[taeru]

Ai supposes in a way, he's given Rin a worse fate than even Haruka had given him.

Caught Rin in a hell of their own making and has effectively begged him not to leave. At least with Haruka, he broke free, even if Ai gets the sense there is a ghost constantly chasing on his heels in that wake. But he didn't have to wake up to Haruka every morning. Didn't have to sit there and force himself to carve out a normalcy among wreckage.

He tries so, so hard not to feel like a walking, breathing burden, waiting for Rin to disappear into the shower room before prostrating himself on the couch at full length and staring up at his ceiling.

The rain comes down outside, though it's significantly less violent than it had been the night Rin disappeared. Ai forces himself off the couch and out of his thoughts, shuffling toward the living room window, the smaller kitchen window, and then the window closest to his bed, pulling the curtains on each.

He has to hang Rin's jacket, but it's raining outside. It would have to be a problem for tomorrow. Ai sits at his desk, and he catches the duck plush Rin had gifted him from his periphery, right where it has been on his bed since the day Rin arrived.

His eyes slip closed as his mind wanders, elbows on the desktop and palms rubbing over his forehead, chasing away shadows of thoughts he isn't yet brave enough to actualize. What does Rin think of him now, after all of this? Was it a better impression before or after they fucked, before or after Ai let his tongue slip? How much does Sousuke know? Ai looks down at his phone, sees he has replies, but doesn't want to open them.

[buttterfly]

The shower serves its purposes.

One to scrub himself near raw, shame flooding him. It's one thing to be desperate in three separate instances and lay yourself bare for someone. The first with Ai, and the tumultuous conclusion of that. Two, being Sousuke, someone who you now don't know as well as you think. And three, with an old friend who you had an idea of what might transpire but were so deep in self loathing that it didn't matter to you.

But then to have Ai look at him like that? It brings a certain feeling back. One that hasn't come up in quite some time. You can still hear Everest's stupid voice in the locker room. "Bet he bends over in the showers." And Rin has to bite the back of his knuckles before he punches the wall again.

The second purpose being draining the hot water just lulls him. It's sheer, dumb luck that Mikhail isn't in Japan yet. It would probably begin in teasing, into the horrifying suggestion that maybe Rin should sit the All Japan out. He bites his lip, fury blossoming in him at the prospect. There's the drive of a normal person, and then there's the drive of Rin fucking Matsuoka. And it can be a scary thing.

So Rin shoves it all aside. It's not going to get in the way.

When he emerges from the shower, towel slung over his neck to keep Ai's gaze from lingering too far, it's like he's a different person. Slipped back into a new mask, one that feels all too real and similar to the third year Rin from Samezuka. Confident in his approach as captain, and stubbornly determined to do whatever necessary to reach his end game.

"Thanks." He tosses over his shoulder, noting the closed blinds as he crawls onto his futon. "Sorry, kind of drained the water." He says sheepishly, running his hand through his hair. Exhaustion finally creeps at him. Rin shoves his phone into the charger, knowing he owes a lot of people some explanations. Well. One at least.

[taeru]

Several times while Rin is in the shower, Ai's feeble attempts at trying to go back to his studies are interrupted, casting long glances toward the shower room door and feeling a knot tie itself too tight in his chest.

How much of all of this could have been avoided or outright helped if he didn't cave to the part of him that is human? Didn't let Rin's goading work? If they had never slept together, if realizations had never happened, if Rin didn't storm out--

Rin-senpai was right though, he thinks miserably, closing his textbook and reaching for something else, Despite all the bad, it was still worth it. I want to regret it, but I can't.

His pen writes across the page furiously, back slunking down until he's nearly curled over the smaller booklet in front of him on the desk, and snapping back to rod-straight at the sound of the door clicking. Watches Rin retreat to his futon, and does notice the towel around his neck - oddly considerate, Ai thinks. Even if a bit useless by this point.

"That's alright, I took mine earlier." He wonders faintly if Rin, too, felt the floor threaten to swallow him whole at the spot just to the right of the entrance inside the shower room. Maybe not; the way Rin exits the shower, Ai gets the impression he's shifted into a different mood, and Ai can't place it. If he's honest, it's a little jarring. This must be what he felt like twenty minutes ago... Sorry, senpai. It was late, but not horribly so; Ai looks to his desk clock, ten pm.

"Will you take tomorrow off?" All Japan was a week away at this point, and Rin probably couldn't afford to take it easy, though Ai thinks he should take a day to recover. But Ai sees the rings under his eyes and the tiredness in his shoulders and the bruises poking out from under his towel, and rather than wonder if Rin is going to try and pull himself together, he wonders how. Guilt and awe crawl up his spine both at the same time.