Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/958758.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Major_Character_Death
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Free!
  Relationship:
      Matsuoka_Rin/Nanase_Haruka
  Character:
      Matsuoka_Rin, Nanase_Haruka, Matsuoka_Gou, Mikoshiba_Seijuurou
  Additional Tags:
      Frottage, Underage_Frottage, Pain_With_Porn_With_Plot, Free!_Kink_Meme,
      Blowjobs, Olympics, Physical_Therapy, Anal_Sex, Shower_Sex, Angst_and
      Suffering, Now_Tagged_For_Your_Displeasure
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-08 Completed: 2013-12-06 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 13814
****** Things We Can't Have ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Rin and Haru are parallel, some say - others claim they are bound by
     the red string of fate. But strings can strangle, form nooses - and
     parallel lines are ones that are destined never to meet.
     A series of encounters in the lives of two men, diverging from canon
     around episode 10. Warnings and rating may change.
Notes
     A/N: I'm orphaning this bc it's honestly bothered me for a while for
     some of the pedophilic undertones that I just. Didn't notice when I
     first wrote it. Or didn't think merited anything Dangerous all these
     years ago. So I'm distancing myself from it and apologising for
     anyone, past present or future, who could be hurt by this. Pedophilia
     is real, and horrible, and I do not advocate it in any way.
     ----
     Original prompt - "Before Rin leaves for Australia, he and Haruka
     decide to experiment a little like how grown ups do under the guise
     of making one last big memory together before Rin leaves by grinding
     and rubbing against each other but with clothes on--preferably their
     swim trunks!"
     Rin's been paying a little too much attention to his biology books,
     and Haru gets to be his guinea pig. Neither of them are familiar with
     the scientific method.
***** There Is No Next Year *****
Haru doesn't really know what to expect when Rin pulls him around the corner of
the locker rooms after swimming practice; most of the guys are heading home by
now, anyway, but he still is hauled impatiently to the remotest possible part
of the showering area.  Haru's skin is tingling with the faint chill of pool
water and the harsh chemicals, and his hair is drying in chunks and bits of
fluff and he just wants to shower so he can get in the tub at home.  But of
course Rin always gets what he wants - and Makoto can only give Haru a baffled
look as he is ambushed by his younger siblings.
Haru resigns himself to his fate and turns to face the red-headed boy as he is
marched along.  Rin's eyes are a little puffy looking, but that's to be
expected after vigorous swimming, and he's still damp as well.  Or is he
sweating? Haru would have known if Rin had swum the last two laps, and the lane
beside him had been empty for once.
"Rin?"

Carmine eyes flicker his way, and he grins. "Hey, H-Haru," and the way his
breath catches in his throat, causing him to stutter, sends off warning flares
in the back of Haru's mind.

He's concerned for Rin, despite how he acts; and Haru knows that he acts like
he doesn't care sometimes, but he also trusts that Rin knows that he really
matters. All three of them do. He just... doesn't always know how to show it to
someone like Rin, who wears his heart on his sleeve and is nothing ever short
of intense.  Like now, when they finally reach their destination and Rin pushes
him back against the wall.  His palms slap against the tile as he catches
himself before his head smacks against the surface, and Rin flinches at the
noise.
Ah, that's right.  Rin had asked to sit out for a bit in the lockers rooms
because he wasn't feeling good.  He still looks ill - flushed, tense, panting
and wired like a starving dog.

But instead of asking, Are you ok? Haru just comments, "Hello."

Rin licks his lips. "So, uh... Hey," and his eyes light up with paper thin
confidence, bouncing off the floor to land on Haru's face again, "I've got a
really great idea."

"That'd be a first," he can't help but comment. Rin snorts, still looks edgy
and Haru is just baffled at his friend's actions. He's jittery where as he's
almost perpetually confident, and it's creepy.

"Shut up man, you don't even know what I'm talking about yet." 

"Then tell me."

Rin growls, but it's more of a whimper, and he drops his forehead onto Haru's
shoulder with unexpected force. "God, just sh-shut up for a moment. Ok. I'm
gonna- I'm gonna just start, ok? And tell me if you want me to stop."

And then he starts to wiggle against Haru, in the darkest section of the locker
rooms, and if Haru was the type he'd probably be laughing right about now. He's
confused and starting to get really concerned about his friend, and when his
mouth opens to start to suggest that Rin call a nurse or something,
a... thing happens.  Rin's hips brush against his in a way that seems to scream
oh so right in a way he hadn't really explored yet.

His lower body starts to tingle a bit, starts to react to Rin's movements that
are punctuated by muffled grunts of effort and then as Rin finds his rhythm the
pieces fall into place in Haru's mind.

"Are you trying to... sleep with me?" he asks, because he doesn't know any
other words for the action but this isn't involving any sort of bed and he's
not feeling even slightly tired.  In fact he feels much more alert but out of
it, in a weird sort of way.  It's like when everything is suddenly silent when
the first few notes of a song play, and your entire world focuses on the sound
and the way it rings through your body.
But this isn't quite the same; it's there, and it's trying, but the music is
slightly out of key.

"Yeah? Kind of?" Rin raises his head then, keeps moving and finally meets
Haru's eyes with a maroon gaze that's gone a little glassy. "I don't really
know what I'm doing, but is it working?"

"I'm not gonna get pregnant, am I?"

Rin starts to laugh but the sound actually just comes out miserable, like he
choked in the middle of the phrase. "I don't think so man, my books didn't say-
-"

"How did you find books on this? Where?" 

The thought of reading books on this suddenly fascinating subject made Haru's
cheeks heat up a bit, and more for curiosity's sake then anything else, he
starts to move in sync with Rin's motions. It's not doing much, but it's doing
something, and perhaps this is something he can do for Rin. It doesn't take a
lot of effort, anyway.

Rin bites his lower lip and pants, braces his hands on the cold tile wall
behind Haru. "I dunno, I found them, just-- oh, keep doing that."

His eyelids flutter shut as he puts all of his focus on moving, pressing close
and arching his back as he rubs his hips against Haru's - every once in a white
their bones click together, their stomachs collide, and it's all so very
fascinating to Haru that he kind of forgets the fact that this sort of thing is
supposed to be reserved at least for adults, if not for a boy and a girl.

But everyone knows girls have cooties, so Haru doesn't really mind that Rin is
choosing him for this.

"Why me?" he asks anyway, and Rin jerks back awake.

"Huh?"

"Why me? Why not... someone else?" And then it occurs to Haru that there might
be someone else, either now or before or after, and he suddenly wants to bring
Rin closer. But his arms stay loose by his sides.

Rin's eyebrows draw together, and he blinks before giving his first actual
smile throughout this whole ordeal. "Who else would there even be, Haru?"

And he says it so honestly that Haru has to look away. Rin won't let him,
though, and turns his head back to look him in the eye.

"Hey, Haru, can I kiss you?"

Yes. "Why?"

"People always kiss when they do things like this."

Haru shrugs, and Rin leans in, opens his mouth against Haru's as they move
together slightly out of sync. It's not magical, just interesting and kind of
wet, and after a couple more minutes of this nonsense Rin's breathing catches
in his throat. He pushes against Haru, jerking his hips up a couple more times
before he relaxes, exhausted, against the other's shoulder.

"Did that do anything for you?" he queries, voice deeper than before and
attempting vainly to sound anything along the lines of in control of the
situation.

"Not really," Haru admits. "Thanks for trying, though."

Rin manages to pull himself off Haru with shaking arms, his expression sad but
still cheerful. Loopy, almost. "Maybe we're just a little young for this?"

"Maybe. Let's try again next year, ok?"

In a moment, Rin's face freezes; his eyes suddenly widen and his mouth
trembles. Haru goes tense, too, afraid of what he might have done wrong. But
almost instantly, Rin laughs and kisses Haru again on the cheek.

"Yeah. Next year - let's meet right here, after a race."

"Oi!"

The Coach's booming voice echos in the lockers, and Rin jumps away like a
startled cat. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, gives Haru one
last, searching look that has to mean something, and then vanishes into the
nearest shower.

Next year.
Haru shivers, feels the skin of the cheeks and is startled at the warmpth of
them, then heads to his own shower as Sasabe appears around the corner.
 "What's taking you so long?"
"Haru wanted this shower, but I beat him to it!" Rin's voice, mocking and
triumphant as it should be, echos from behind the curtain as he turns the water
on - ice cold, as judged by his startled yip.  Sasabe shrugs and gives Haru an
amused look.
"Come on, kid, there's plenty of showers.  I'm sure you'll beat Matsuoka for it
next time."
Supposedly pacified, Haru steps into the sanctuary of his own shower next to
Rin, turns on the water and doesn't even notice if it's cold or not.
I'll be waiting, Rin.
***** There Is No Second Place *****
Chapter Summary
     Where winners feel like losers, Rin's a hot mess, and no one
     understands how to take things slow.
     (smut ahead)
Chapter Notes
     Mood music: Youth - Daughter and Demons - Imagine Dragons
     Fast forward four years, or so. Spoilers for episode 7 - follows
     character development up to (and beyond?) episode 9. Sorry for the
     style shift. And, like, everything else.
He is raw in every sense of the word.
Raw, raw like uncooked meat, soft and tender and likely to spoil but all the
more flavorful for it. Raw, raw like torn skin, bleeding and tender and
reactive to even the slightest touch with an explosion. All that he is,
everything hurts and it's all Haru's fault.
Rin had lost, and he'd lost so much more than he had last time. There's a spot
he's going to have to clear on his shelf for a brand new medal but he watched
his shitty replacement and he saw that they - the Iwatobi team, his first and
last true friends - didn't want him anymore. So when he can't find Haru after
the swim he waits and he oozes and he rots until he finds himself again at a
door he'd last seen in a dream.
He's hurt, but he's also angry. He knows that he hurt Haru, but Rin has a
terrible habit of placing himself first - first in everything, because someone
who places anything other than first may as well just give up and go home.
So here he stands, knocks on the door to Haru's house, and waits until it
opens. The man on the other side of the door is damp but dressed and entirely
too pretty to be mad at. "Rin?"
He glances first down to Rin's hand, the fist he wasn't even aware he'd
clenched until Haru flinches at it - then he looks up to Rin's eyes and
suddenly he can't meet them, can't do this, he still remembers too much and
feels too much and--
"What are you doing here?"
Rin's raw, so raw, and he just wants to be soothed, just wants to be eaten
alive and crawl inside Haruka to own him from the inside out. Unfortunately,
the words that come out aren't ones we wanted to say; not to himself, not ever.
"I'm sorry for forcing you to swim with me."
Haru stiffens in the gloom, and Rin's words tumble onto the floor, spilling out
like blood from an unexpected wound.
"I was selfish-- fuck, I'm still selfish. But you never wanted to swim with me,
did you?" His throat catches, but he keeps going. "So, I'm sorry. I'll never
ask you to do it again. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
He wants to spit the words like acid, but instead they drip, more viscous than
vicious and they run down his face like the hot tears that fought their way
out.
The silence between them leaves no space for breathing until Haru adds, softly,
"you promised me if I raced you again, that you wouldn't cry."
Rin swallows.
"You won."
"Bullshit," he snarls, speaking without proper thought. "I lost you."
He... he hadn't meant to say that, either. But it was true and he felt it,
tingling and weakening him as the rage that had kept him going for so long
slowly starts to leave him empty. Rin's hands slowly relaxs as he feels the
desire to fight drain away.
But Haru just stands there, eyes too big and body too stiff and still too far
away. Rin didn't have the will to take another step forward, and with a faint
numbness he felt something slippingly slowly away. Didn't I lose you? askes the
unspoken voice. Or are you still mine?
He can't move forward. He can't move on. Rin is transfixed surely to this
moment in time, just as he'd been anchored to others in the past, and the water
is rising and he knows, he knows that if he doesn't escape this time he'll
drown. But he can't. He is nothing.
Haru moves, steps down the half step from his house to the doorway, and
embraces Rin.
He can feel the starlight cold and distant just as strongly as he can feel
Haru's arms around him, warm and close and here. He can feel Haru's shirt under
his fingernails as he claws him closer, can feel Haru's hair stick damply, can
feel Haru everythere and god, it's been too long. He's tearing up and tearing
apart, and in revenge for how weak Haru makes him feel he snares his fingers in
Haru's hair. Blue eyes widen when he pries them apart, and that same desperate
voice from moments and years before screams for him to slam the other against
the wall.
So he does. He pushes Haru inside, presses him against the wall and pauses for
just a breath - but no protest comes as he puffs air against Haru's lips and
tries to remember what it feels like to be this close again. Physically,
mentally...
The way Haru leans forward, just enough, to seal their lips together, is all
the assurance he needs. Deep down he knows that this is the wrong way to do
this, that they're skipping too many steps between these points for things to
work out the way he wants. But he needs Haru like Haru needs water, and he
devotes his energy to kissing with the same fervor he gives swimming.
Their rhythm is slightly off, teeth clicking together once or twice as Rin
refuses to sob into Haru's mouth - then someone shifts, someone gives, and they
melt together in the summer night. Punctuated by kisses, their breathing grows
heavy as each pause between breaks grows longer. Rin feels like his head is
spinning as his lips caress and crush against Haru's mouth, slowly growing more
and more frantic until he can reach his tongue inside. But Haru acts first,
sliding his tongue across the roof of Rin's mouth in a way that makes his
entire body burn.
Rin's slightly taller and uses his height to his advantage, prising his hands
from the warm body against him to slides his hands up Haru's arms, tracing the
skin under he finds the other's hands. Fingers lace, pin Haru's hands above his
head, and Rin pulls away to observe his handiwork.
There is nothing weak or submissive in Haru's eyes as they flutter open again,
but something like relief - then confusion, as his tongue tests a thin cut on
his lip from where Rin's teeth had been a little too enthusiastic. Something
jolts in the pit of Rin's stomach, curls around his spine like lava, hot and
slow and sinuous.
Three years ago, he'd been selfish and desperate and he'd pinned Haru up
against a wall and done as he'd pleased. He remembers the same feelings boiling
in his stomach like a witch's brew; mouth of cotton, mask of arrogance, eyes
blind to the future, pleading breaking heart and unexpected erection; bring to
boiling point. Let simmer for years. Stir in feelings. Thoughtlessly indulge
and burn your tongue, waste the magic, know that you don't have the ingredients
to make another.
He will never find someone else like Haru, but more than he wants the future,
any kind of future, he wants the now. So he leans in and bites the side of
Haru's neck, just the points of his teeth and the flick of his tongue, and
closes his eyes. It hasn't been a waste, all these years. He hasn't lost Haru
yet.
Have I?
He slides his hands down Haru's sides, up his shirt, around to his back and
drags his fingernails down. Haru bucks against him and gasps, a considerably
better result than the last time they tried this. But it's still not enough,
and Rin traces little nips and kisses back to Haru's mouth as his fingers tug
angrily at Haru's pants. He wants, he needs more than this and he would do
anything to have it.
"The front door's still open," Haru grunts, pushing Rin off him and taking him
by surprise. Fear strikes him, lays him bare and raw again - but the darker
haired man just shuts it in silence, his breathing infuriatingly calm in the
now deeper darkness. The space between them isn't even that much, but it feels
like a dream and Rin's terrified of waking up this time.
He licks his lips, tastes the faint flavor of another mouth still on it.
"Bedroom? I, ah..." Words catch in his throat and he swallows them down, tries
it again. "Last time, I didn't do enough for you. Let me make it up to you."
Rin's eyes track him with an intensity he doesn't bother to hide as Haru wavers
in the doorway. Then, "... all right. Take off your shoes first."
A flash of smugness bolsters his confidence, and Rin boldly kicks off his shoes
as he peels off his shirt. Haru's eyes roll, but Rin distracts him again with
fiery, irregular kisses as they stumble along together. The house is silent
except for their faint, desperate sounds and the curse Rin spits out when he
hits his shin against the corner of the table.
But when he finally has Haru on his back on the bed, eyes dark and luminescent
in the filtered moonlight, Rin almost loses his nerve. His hands shakes as he
unzips Haru's pants, fumble and unintentionally slip and snap the jammer
against his skin. Haru groans, and Rin almost panics for a moment that he's
screwed up and ruined everything - but his hand takes notice of the hard, warm
curve under the spandex.
He strips Haru with painstaking care, kissing every newly revealed inch with
reverence and every familiar one with nostalgia. Tucking his lips over his
teeth, he catches Haru's gaze before he licks his lips.
Haru's hands dig into the sheets, his back arching as Rin takes the other's
dick into his mouth in a fluid movement. It's not something he's ever done
before, and the fit is more difficult than he imagined - especially when Haru's
hips jerk up and the head of his dick hits the roof of Rin's mouth in odd
mimicry of Haru's tongue before - but the reaction he elicits is worth every
moment. Power, assurance, confidence runs through his veins and he plants his
palms on Haru's hipbones to keep him still as he gets to work.
He find a rhythm and a pattern, swallowing when his lips almost touch Haru's
pubic bone, retreating almost entirely and sucking hard on the upstroke. Twice
he takes his mouth away to blow cool air on the hot, moist skin and to hear
Haru's breathy, desperate sounds. The second time, when Haru clamps his hand
over his mouth to stifle his own noises, Rin leans forward to whisper in his
ear.
"Let me hear it, Haru. I want everything you have to offer."
It's cliched but it works, and Rin finds himself fighting the urge to rut
against the mattress as he kneels between Haru's thighs - especially when Haru
finds that a better place for his hands is buried in Rin's hair. He tugs and
pets in time with Rin's motion, harsh and soothing alternately, and when Rin
stops to gasp for breath the third time, Haru uses his grip to drag him up to
kiss him.
Two sets of hands work to bare Rin's body, clothes tossed aside to mingle with
the discarded sheets, and then they are tangled up together bare and raw and
beautiful. Hissing sharply through his teeth as their skin makes delicious
contact, the last thing Rin wants to do is meet Haru's eyes. But he does, and
it makes him feel defenseless and young - it hurts, but not enough to stop.
If he's not careful, he'll drown into those deep blue eyes.
Rin has never been a careful man.
He can feel moisture just starting to brim at the edges of his vision, so he
ducks into the corner of Haru's neck to hide as he jerks his hips up. The low
noise that he drags out of the dark-haired swimmer is almost drowned out by his
own trembling moan, so with mixed feelings of exhilaration and exhaustion he
does it again. And again, and again, until he has to sink his teeth into the
tender skin between shoulder and neck to muffle his cries.
It's too much, they're taking this too far and this isn't how he wanted things
at all; but he senses deep down that this taste of heaven is all he'll ever be
allowed to have.
Haru finishes first, with a long, drawn out breathless gasp and a last graceful
arch of his spine; Rin follows, second place, and swears violently into the
dotted tooth marks he's left behind. Arms and everything else still weak from
the effort, he sits up enough to roll onto Haru's side.
His bedmate stares at the ceiling, the rise and fall of his chest gradually
slowing down as he raises his hand to touch the bitemarks Rin branded into his
skin. His arm blocks his face from Rin's view and breaks the spell woven over
the room.
Half amused, half bitter, Rin lets himself doze and wonders just how many
different ways they'll avoid talking about this ever again.
***** There Is No Ordinary *****
Chapter Summary
     Almighty and allknowing janitors are not a universal constant - but
     well intentioned siblings and angry bilingual bisexuals should be.
     Something about this smells fishy (and it's not Gou.)
Chapter Notes
     Three years after graduation, based loosely off a prompt by armins-
     armpits.tumblr (i'm sorry)
     Diverges a bit from canon as well - the 12th episode was pure
     perfection in every sense of the word, but I can't have things as
     messy as how I've made them be wrapped up so nicely only to fall
     apart again.

He doesn't have the right.
That's the only thought to cross Haru's mind as he plows the bristles of the
broom across the locker room floor. The smell of chemicals seeps through the
cotton facemask, and his breath tastes thick and stagnant as he works. A dead
end job - his life is a stagnant pool, crusted with algae and going nowhere.
But it was what he had chosen, three years ago, when he'd left high school and
just stood outside the school for an hour thinking, now what? and never found
an answer.
So why couldn't it have been him being injured? Why couldn't he have slipped
and fallen and been the one to shatter his knee? He wasn't halfway to a gold
medal. He wasn't anywhere. He wasn't anyone. It should have been him.
But it was always Rin. It had always been Rin.
He doesn't have the right to pity him like this, and still feel that
undercurrent of affection he's tried to drown for years. Go on without me, he'd
begged deep inside the last time he'd seen Rin. You're meant for better things.
You can never be ordinary. But he knows as sure as clockwork that he's going to
the Matsuoka's after work. He even knows what he's going to be wearing, what
he'll be bringing as a get-well-soon present, he knows what Kou will say...
It's pathetic, and he doesn't have the right to still try to be Rin's friend.
 
===============================================================================
 
It had been all over the news - a training accident, out of the blue.
Unexpected tragedy to one of Japan's favorites for the Olympics, and just a
couple years from the next round. Of course, there's still time to recover, but
Rin's heart has always really been what he raced with and hearts take much
longer to heal. And so Haru's waited, waited nearly four months to call up Kou
and ask how her brother's doing.
And thus, he finds himself at their door with an insulated bag full of mackerel
slung over one shoulder and his heart heavy on his tongue.
He'd expected, somehow, for Rin to be bedridden and bedraggled, pale and wan
and hair a mess from sleep and stress. But instead it's Rin who opens the door
and freezes, balancing skillfully on one crutch as they lock eyes.
"Bu-- Haru! What are you-- How did you--"
"I invited him," Kou insists as she glides into the entryway, her form still as
graceful as ever if a little less delicate. And that seems to settle it, as
minutes later Haru finds himself sitting at a Western-style table with a cup of
tea as Rin watches him warily from across the table. Kou had come and gone like
a wisp, off to cook the mackerel Haru had brought for dinner, inviting Haru to
stay for the meal. And of course he'd gone along with it, because even now
after all this time he just cannot say no to the Matsuokas.
Haru wishes he'd brought someone else along, but he didn't because by now he's
the only one of the swim club left.
"I wasn't expecting you," Rin offers, a bit more relaxed than before. He's
stretched out awkwardly, his leg held straight in a brace and his crutch
balanced under his wrist in a pose that looks slightly too practiced to be
actually cool. "I would have showered or something."
"It's fine."
"No, you should have called."
Haru looks away from his tea to watch something pass behinds Rin's eyes, like
cloud shadows scuttling across the ground. But he's never been good at people,
not without relying on others like Makoto and Nagisa to solve his problems for
him, and the moment slips through his fingers to leave him chilled.
"I'm sorry."
Rin clicks his tongue and returns to his previous task of looking anywhere but
at Haru. "So how's the rest of the old team?"
"Nagisa and Rei went off to college in Tokyo. Makoto moved with his family -
he's got a job in Nagoya. I think he works at a hotel. I keep in touch with
them."
"And you?"
"I... I clean at the new swimming club."
This catches Rin's attention. "Really?"
"Yeah. They rebuilt the old one. Maybe if you're still here in a few months, we
could swim there together."
The redhead goes very still, scarcely breathing. Time drips like water from a
leaky faucet until Rin breaks it again.
"What makes you think I can go back to swimming after this?"
His response is simple, immediate. "Because you're you."
Rin curls up his lip. "Shut up."
"It's true. You have to get better. People like us," and Haru hesitates,
because he doesn't have the right to still place himself on the same level as
Rin who actually made something of himself, who still fights for what he wants
and still runs clear as a river to the ocean. "People like you can never become
ordinary."
The man across the table sighs, reaches up to run his fingers through his hair
and accidentally releases his crutch - it clatters to the floor, making both of
them wince. Rin swears.
Haru's already up and picking it up. As he hands it off, Rin's eyes lock with
his and watch him with a weariness that seems to drag them both to a
standstill. Neither move, their hands connected by proxy with the crutch. Haru
watches Rin swallow, the bob of his throat oddly appealing.
He doesn't have the right to miss him. But he does.
"I expected you here sooner, really." Rin's admittance falls from his lips as
he sits back, resting his chin in one hand and just watching Haru. From this
angle it's hard not to notice the angles and planes of his body and how he's
thinner than he looked on TV like his muscles have already started to waste
away. And it's hard not to lean forward, plant one hand on the back of Rin's
chair and the other on the table.
So he does both of this things, and breathes in the sight and smell of Rin from
this close.
"I thought you would have moved on by now," Haru answers, soft and gentle like
he's afraid his very words will hurt from this close - because he is afraid, so
very afraid. Because he still remembers three years ago in a memory he keeps
firmly under lock and key.
"Have you?"
He's too far away to feel the heat of Rin's breath on his skin, but close
enough to see all the tiny nuances in his expression that give him away. While
some people talk with their eyes, with glances and gazes that hold so much,
Rin's always talked with his teeth and lips - sneers, smirks, laughs and bites
and smiles. It's his mouth that keeps him mesmerized, and while it's not as
romantic to fixate on, Haru can't pull away. In the glint of his clenched teeth
and the slight parting of his lips, Haru sees fear lurking just below the
surface.
So he surrenders to the tug and leans in to press a kiss against Rin's lovely,
vicious mouth. A hand rises to cup Haru's jaw, tilt his head slightly to fix
the angle and then they fit together and it almost hurts. This, this was what
he'd wanted longer than he even realized and the knowledge that it won't, that
Rin won't be his forever makes him push forward. The crutch clatters to the
floor again, and Haru doesn't even care. All that he wants is seeping into him
by agonising inches from the connection points where their skin meet.
Long years of swimming gives them a stamina for holding their breaths, but it's
still such a loss when he pulls back. Rin's cheeks are flushed, and his eyes
are slow to open as they scan up Haru's body like he's afraid that if he looks
away he might miss something important.
"Big brother, is everything--!" Kou stops short in the doorway, or so Haru
assumes from his peripheral vision. It's Rin's expression he's still watching,
the facinating play of colors across Rin's cheeks as he goes from pale to
scarlet and grits something out in what Haru can only assume is english. Kou is
having none of his sass, and he glances over to watch her plant her fists on
her hips and snap something back in the throaty language.
Wordlessly, Haru kneels to retrieve the crutch again and heads into the
kitchen, his instincts leading him away from where the siblings were still
bickering. As he'd feared, the mackerel was just starting to blacken around the
edges, so he found the spatula and slid them neatly off the grill just in time
for Kou to return looking thoroughly disgruntled.
She yanks the utensil from his hands with the power of a woman who knows what
she's doing, and gives him a cold side eye.
"So why were you eyefucking my brother, Haruka?"
The question doesn't exactly take him off guard, but the harshness in her tone
makes him pause. "I didn't mean to."
Kou sighs and turns to face him entirely, her face earnest and honest and
conversely makes Haru feels vulnerable.
"If you're not here to give him your 100% this time, then leave. Go home now.
I've seen enough of what you can do to him that I don't want you to only give
him a third of yourself and keep the rest locked away."
And the finality of her words hurt, but not as much as the slow drain of warmth
that comes when he knows what he has to do; because he's still holding back.
He's better and he's getting better day by day, but it's still too soon to deal
with this.
He glances to the doorway, beyond which lounges a broken man whom despite their
reconciliations time and again, he can never quite hold without getting cut by
all his sharp edges. A man who doesn't know how to anyone other than himself;
intense, driven, emotional, sentimental, honest. A man who could never be
ordinary. A man who could never be his.
Haru feels cold and lightweight as he heads to the door in silence, not feeling
the weight of Kou's eyes on him and the sense of betrayal as he pulls on his
shoes and closes the door behind him.
He doesn't have the right to tell him goodbye.
***** There Is No Consolation Prize *****
Chapter Summary
     Life doesn't always work out like it does in the movies, but maybe it
     will here. Aren't you glad you're a shark and not a racehorse, Rin?
Chapter Notes
     Google-based research on sports injuries ahead.
If he focuses too much on his feelings, Rin can still feel the disconnect.
He's a big boy now, or so he told himself when he plastered over the hole Haru
had left in his heart. But the break hadn't been set quite right, and something
healed wrong. He can feel it.
It's not a pain, per say, because pain he can handle.
Like now, as he stretches in preparation for his solo event, he can feel a tiny
something not quite right in his bad knee. It's miles better since he damaged
it, and it was given the best treatment his family and sponsors could afford.
But it's still been broken, and it scarred anyway.
Rin fingers the pale, smooth skin that crosses over the joint like ropes tying
him down, branching like lightning. Underneath, he can feel the strange texture
of the once-ruined joint. Before, it at frightened him. By now, however, it's
reassuring. He grew around it.  He still remembers the pain every once in a
while - you don't forget the sensation of a broken bone easily after all - but
it's been a long time since it slowed him down.  He's ready for this, and he
has been for years.  There is no more pain.
His event, the 100m front crawl, is called over the loudspeakers, and the sound
in the locker rooms goes silent for a moment. Then Seijuro, his old swim team
captain and his relay team member, claps him on the back.
"You're up, Rin," he states, superfluously. Rin flashes him a toothy grin
anyway, one that he feels. It's reassuring, this sudden surge of adrenaline - a
reminder that he's alive, he's here.
Watch me, father.
Everything between the locker rooms and the poolside is a blur of well wishes
and chatter in two dozen or more different languages - Rin tilts his head to
the roof, staring at the distant lights and wondering what the sky looked like
beyond the metal crossed ceiling of the stadium. Everything here is huge, he
knows this and he's seen it before, but this time it's different.  He feels
small, like he used to feel back home when he'd stare up at the night sky and
try to count the stars not hidden by light pollution.  But here there are no
stars except for the ones beside him, and underneath the fluorescent lights
he's going to be the one shining this time.
The cue was given, and he was crouching into position, every muscle in his body
coiling like a spring and his mind empty of anything but the burn to swim. This
may have been a solo event, but he was never alone.
Then the whistle sounds, and he dives into the welcoming water.
It hit him hard - not in the literal sense, since he was expecting it and had
learned how to cut through surface tension perfectly back in middle school -
but where he was, what he was swimming for. It filled him with the fire to
compete, and by the time he came up for his first breath of air, he could feel
the makings of a perfect swim in his very bones.
The others in the water around him were unfamiliar - they were prey, they were
rivals, they were stepping stones on his way to victory, they were swimming
beside him but not with him. Yet he feels no pain.  He is majestic, not perfect
but still here, the comeback kid of the year and an underwater phoenix.  He can
do it, he knows he could do it, and he'll lay the medal on the shrine to his
father because he'd win it for him.
Until he hits the wall for the kick turn back.
As soon as his feet leave the wall, he feels it. Something burn and snap in his
knee, and a flash of pain dulled by adrenaline. The fear of re-injuring it,
contrary to slowing him down, made him only speed up and double the speed of
his stroke. But with every flex of muscle, with every fluid machination of his
front crawl he can feel something becoming unhinged and his cool determination
dissolves into almost a panicked stroke.
But then his hands hit the wall, and he glances at the leader board; he'd
managed bronze, and while it's something it still feels like a slap in the
face.  He was supposed to be-- no, hewas better!
He'd medaled however, and in the sea of Australians running to congratulate
their winning member, he spots Seijuuro muscling his way forward. Their hands
connect, and Rin's only too grateful to accept the helping hand out of the
pool.
But it's not until they're out of everyone's earshot that he whispers in his
once-captain's ear the worst news he could have gotten.
 
===============================================================================
 
The resident doctor confirmed Rin's suspicion - he'd wrenched the joint during
the kick for the turn, and the recommended course of action was rest for a
couple weeks for a full recovery. Seijuuro, his coach, and everyone vaguely
involved with swimming had already filled his mind with their two cents. He
could picture all the metaphorical coins bouncing around in his head,
clattering against his skull and giving him this goddamn headache that had him
grinding his teeth all night long. 
News had already spread of his re-injury, and as he iced his knee in the
relative peace of his hotel room he replied to the most recent of Gou's texts
onehanded as Seijuro lounged on the couch.  It was a huge room, paid for by
numerous sponsors (most of whom were probably muttering to themselves over
kicking him out if he didn't at least swim tomorrow) so the whole team
spitefully ordered the most expensive sushi they could get through room
service.  By now, their backstroke swimmer Takeshi had insisted on his routine
of hitting up every bar in town for a round and had conned their teammate
Seimei into joining them - thus, it was just the two redheads from Samezuka to
stew in the comfort of a five star hotel suite.
"I can practically smell your impatience, Sei," he grunts as he sends the
rather irate text message.
From the couch as he watches children's cartoons, Seijuro's voice is almost
mockingly innocent.  "Did I say anything? No. I'm perfectly content to wait on
your decision."
"Can you not sound so much like the team captain? Or did your brief taste of
authority in high school ruin your ability to be polite?"
"You're one to complain," Seijuro snorted, but mutes the TV as he half-turns to
face him. "But seriously, Rin. Talk it out."
"What's there to talk about? I have to chose between swimming for this team and
praying to God for a medal this year or praying to God I've got a second shot
at the Olympics and saving my body for then?"
"You'll always have your bronze," Seijuro reminds him gently. It doesn't help.
 Rin grits his teeth again, nearly cuts his tongue on the edges of them this
time.
"If I hadn't fucked up that turn, I could have gotten gold. Then I won't even
be in this position."
His teammate mulls over this for a moment, cracking open a fresh bottled water
and taking a long sip. Seijuro knows when and how to push someone, and as much
as Rin resents being so obviously manipulated he knows that it's for his own
benefit.  In the silence, Rin reads another text message.

From: Little Sister
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: What Now?
Content: what would haruka do?
And that's...
That really takes his breath away, and Rin flops backwards onto his bed with a
pained sigh. He'd plastered over his heart and tried to forget Haru, but he
could no more forget that then the sound of his father's laugh. Yet both
memories stung in similar ways - the things he can't have back.
Haru didn't want him, at least not like that.  Or at least not enough to follow
him here, not enough to actually put forward effort into a relationship.  He
understands, and even now he's baffled that he was ever surprised.  The other
man had never been one to routinely go out of his way for others - not that Rin
was one to talk about selfishness - but even looking back on things he doubts
if Haru ever really loved him.
And it's bitter and kind of hard going down, but he's had two years to get over
things.  Or, two years to let things fester.
"Haru'd swim for the team."
Seijuro is quiet, in an extremely obvious way. Then, in an effort to lighten
the atmosphere, "is that your final answer?"
A flung pillow makes them both feel better for a moment. But hours later, after
Rin had contacted everyone who needed to know, he still couldn't bring himself
to sleep.
Because at the end of the day, he wasn't Haru.
 
===============================================================================
 
He's the last leg of the relay with his butterfly stroke, and they're in the
middle of the standings. Rin fights the urge to check the leaderboards again as
he hovers above the water, fighting the urge to prematurely dive in as the
competition beside him topples into the water. One, two--
Then he's in. Third, his team is in third and if he can just keep ahead of
those currently behind him it'll all be all right. He's just supposed to aim
for a medal, nothing too fancy, otherwise he risks permanent damage.  But Rin
is not someone who settles.
He's not swimming for himself this time, he can't let them down, and he wants
to scream his frustration at the stadium lights as he swims despite the burn in
his body. Maybe if it had been his Iwatobi friends, or even Rei he would be
doing better - but none had followed him here. He'd gone on alone, like he'd
been forced to leave them all behind like Australia, and they're like his
guardians or his lucky charms because whenever he's without them he's a mess.
 There's been others since then but it had never been the same; Hitori, Takami,
Shigeru, Kyou, Kaoru, Ritsuka, he names them all in his head with each stroke
as if he can draw on their power.
But willpower won't win you medals and his leg isn't what it was yesterday.
 It's worse. Rin wishes he could just rip the limb off with his teeth so that
he could focus on something other than the constant icy burn as his instincts
scream to not move it at all. So he forces his arms to do double the work, his
breaths coming in too shallow and his vision almost blacking out at the turn as
he kicks off the wall. He wants to give up but he remembers too well how it
felt to give up in the water, to wish to drown like his father, and he knows
that Haru will never come looking for him again.
That hurts almost as much as his knee, so he focuses on that feeling - what it
was like to swim with Haru, for Haru, and have Haru swim for him.  But the
image falters in his mind.  It won't work anymore.  He's gone bitter.
He hates Haru.
In the corner of his eye he can see someone coming up behind his right
shoulder, and the injustice at it all summons up a blaze of pure rage that
makes his strokes vicious, fierce, predatory.  It's not fair.  He deserves
this, he's better than this, he's worked too hard and too long to let everyone
down.  All his friends, both on this team and on the ones he'd left behind,
taught him better than that - even if they wouldn't spare him the same
courtesy. Rin plows through the water like he's never touched dry land in his
life, but two strokes from the finish line something in his knee clicks
audibly.
The pain is instant and so intense he sucks in a gulp of water instead of air -
it burns, disorienting him as he forces himself forward, fumbling for a
terrifying moment to hit the plate on the wall to stop the time, then hacks
frantically as his team clusters around him. Treading water is impossible,
unthinkable, so he stares blindly up until his eyes land on the leader board.
Silver.
His team is jubilant around him, Seijuro hauling him out of the water but the
moment his feet his the tile he goes down. Rin's knee simply refuses to work,
and he turns his gaze to the pool with a feeling of betrayal.  Swimming let him
down. Swimming hurt him.  Childishly, he wants to blame Haru who always seems
to have some sort of allegiance with water - of course if water loved Haru, it
would tear at him with teeth sharper than his own.
He doesn't have to hear the doctor's words as he's bundled onto a stretcher,
hiding his eyes behind his forearm as media swarms around him at a distance,
like flies buzzing around a carcass, to know that he won't be here in four
years. The hallway seems so long as he's rushed down it, his teammates forced
to stay behind and leave him along again as faceless medics sweep him into an
ambulance. But he listens anyway, and when everyone is gone and he's put under
anesthesia for an emergency surgery, he wakes up crying.
Because he did listen, and the doctor had told him to never swim competitively
again.
***** There Is No Moving On *****
Chapter Summary
     You're like a magnet, baby, and my compass always points to you.
     You're also really attractive.
Chapter Notes
     hey kids polite reminder to not do what these two dorks do. in any of
     their interactions. ever. the subtitle for this fic is actully Things
     You Shouldn't Do.
     Smut follows, ye be promised/warned.

The silence between them is like ice.
It's smooth and cold and things are hiding underneath, and no one really wants
to break it. Haru hasn't even spoken to Rin yet, and the redhead started
helping old Coach Sasabe with swimming lessons on the weekends. Never the less,
he's aware of Rin's presence in the little changes in his world - a familiar
smell lingering in the showers as he cleans once everyone is gone, the way the
padlock is always spun back to zero on the middle locker. Haru wonders what
evidence of his life he might leave in Rin's path, if any.
But more importantly, he wonders still if Rin ever wants to follow his trail,
hunt him fierce like a predator or gentle like a child. Because he made a
mistake, that day seven years ago in the sunlight in the Matsuoka sitting room.
No, not a mistake; he just wasn't the right person for a relationship then.
He's changed.
Rin has, too; he can see it when he glances around the edges of doorways that
stand open but lock him out anyway. His smile is like candlelight, warm and
bright and unsteady at times as he'll flinch when he kicks wrong or shifts his
weight. Nothing's the same as it once was, and at times it's actually hard to
remember what it was like to be close to him.
What it was like to have the weight of Rin's arm thrown over his shoulder and
his breathy laughter close to his ear; lock gazes with the dead eyes of a man
with wine-dark hair who enjoyed the company of rumored ghosts; share desperate,
frantic kisses in the space between two ordinary days and plaster the cracks
over so as to never return. So much history lay between them and it holds him
back for so long.
That evening's not one especially remarkable, but as he's in the process of
locking up he hears the faint but distinct sound of splashing in the pool. Haru
expects some of Sasabe's kids, or maybe even Sasabe himself. Haru locks the
door anyway, clutches the keys in his hand to silence their jangle, and heads
to the pool on soft, light feet.
But he's really not as surprised as he should be when he sees who's swimming
careful, swift laps; and it feels natural, somehow, to wander over to the pool
like it was nothing at all. Rin's swimming the front crawl, so Haru approaches
the pool head on where he knows the blind spot to be - and hands slap the pool
wall by his feet momentarily.
"You're not supposed to be doing this."
Rin yanks off his goggles and swimcap, panting lightly - then he drags his eyes
up Haru's body so slowly it seems to have a weight to it, a touch, a feel, and
Haru wants to shiver. His eyes are like they were the last time they met in a
swim club at night, but the face is older. The memories overlap each other and
blur like a dream, or maybe a nightmare.
His eyes are gemstones; beautiful, empty, hard, dead.
"You gonna call the cops?"
"I was talking about your knee."
Rin sighs heavily and stands, the water lapping hungrily at the still-toned
body as he gives Haru another searching look, then asks nonchalantly, "do you
have your phone on you?"
He has to check his pockets, then he finds it and hands it over
unquestioningly. Their fingers brush when Rin accepts it, and he doesn't have
much time to process Rin skimming the device angrily across the floor away from
the water; because suddenly those hands have grabbed his janitor's jumpsuit and
Haru falls into the pool.
He had his swimsuit on underneath, of course, but it's the principle of the
thing - "you could have just asked me to get in," Haru mutters as he yanks off
his shoes and unzips his now-heavy clothes. Rin splashes him in the face then
wordlessly kicks off to swim, strokeless and formless but still graceful, a few
lengths away.
"Swim with me, then?"
It's a simple phrase, but Rin's voice is low and clear and real. It sinks into
Haru's bones as he finishes stripping and slings the soaking garments onto the
pool deck. He hadn't thought he'd ever hear those words again.
In reply, Haru slips under the surface of the water and copies Rin's fluid,
natural movement as they swim in parallel lanes. He wants to close the distance
between them, to match the redhead in every restrained kick and rolling
movement of his spine, but it feels like too much right now. It feels too soon.
There are still things in between them that the water hasn't washed away yet.
Haru's never been one for small talk, and he regrets now all the times he
stayed silent and let Makoto do all the talking for him because he doesn't know
how to do this and he can feel how much this counts. It's the last time they'll
ever meet if he can't get this right, and how he knows that he'll never be able
to explain.
So he ignores trying to be perfect, poetic, delicate with his words and goes
for the truth instead when he surfaces at the deep end of the pool. Rin's
already there, gripping the rim of the pool with one hand as he treads water
unevenly, eyes on the ceiling but his body still half-turned in Haru's
direction.
"I missed you."
Rin's face doesn't change, but his muscles tense up because Rin's never really
been good at hiding anything. "How long?"
"I'm not sure, really. Maybe since middle school. Maybe since that night after
regionals. Maybe since last week." Haru sinks under water as if he can hide in
it, head above water just enough to still be able to listen, breathe - but none
of that feels very easy at the moment. "I'm sorry."
He hopes Rin knows that he means this with everything he has, everything he is.
He messed this up.
"We really messed this up, then, didn't we?"
Rin sighs and starts to laugh, a gut-wrenching sound that's the antithesis of
merriment. Haru wants to run, wants to duck under the water and act like this
isn't happening, but more than that...
His tentative hand on Rin's shoulder is caught, shoved away - but still clung
to in a strong, desperate grip. Their fingers lace together as together, they
fall to pieces.
"Shit," gasps Rin, "when did you get to be so honest?" He pulls his body closer
to the pool wall, giving up treading water to cling to whatever solid surface
could support him. His hand tightens around Haru's, and it's like his entire
life has lead up to this moment or something equally final and dramatic and
god, he didn't want it to be true.
Rin's eyes are red at the center, a different kind of red at the edges, and his
hair is wet and gracelessly hanging off his skull and Haru's mind just kind of
shuts off at the sight. It's a mutual decision to kiss, then; it's not slow,
it's not careful, it's not angry or shaking or like anything before. It's
inevitable as death, as sweet as life, and just as hard to measure.
Trying to describe a taste or an emotion was impossible - it was movement and
stillness, panted breaths shared between lips and teeth, it was sound and
silence together and they never stopped holding hands. When they stop, no one
pulls away, and Rin pushes his forehead against Haru's as he catches his
breath. Their legs brush together as they try to tread water better, and
something occurs to the blue-eyed janitor.
"Your swimsuit."
Rin groans. "God, always such a moment killer. Yes, Haru, that is a--"
"Not that," Haru retorts, too far gone to care about the absurdity of the
situation. "I mean the fact that it's still all the way down to your ankles.
You should get a shorter cut."
"Like you?"
"Yeah. It's the water that hurt your knee, right? Maybe the water can help it
too."
"And here I thought you'd changed at all." Rin snorts, but he breaks their
shared grip to run his fingers over the once-injured joint. Haru's hand feels
cold and purposeless in the absence, but he keeps his mouth shut. "I'll think
about it."
"Do you want to try mine?"
Rin's eyes widen, flash like distress flares, then lock with Haru's and throw
away the key. "If you take off that swimsuit, Haru," he states in a calmer tone
than he'd ever used before in his life, "there is no way I am going to swim the
rest of the night."
It would be a lie to say it was something in Rin's tone that hit him, hard and
hot and low; it was everything, all of Rin. In reply, Haru grips the edge of
the pool with one hand and, still meeting Rin's gaze, slides his hand down his
side and underwater to push down at the corner at the corner of his swimsuit.
Face otherwise calm, he tilts his chin up just a touch, feeling blood rush to
his cheeks and then lower as Rin's eyes widen, darken.
"Fuck--"
Rin's kiss is almost more like getting punched in the mouth with someone else's
mouth, and Haru tastes a little bit of blood on the inside of his cheek, but
he's half pulled, half herded to the shallow end as Rin swears in multiple
languages. The only thing he really catches is when Rin's bracing his palms on
the side of the pool and trying launch himself out of the water - "fuck, I'm
not doing this in the pool, Haru. Get out."
Haru's exit is smoother, and he gives Rin that tiny little pull, that boost he
needs to get out, and then they're rushing to the lockers like teenagers under
the judgmental 'No Running' signs.
As soon as they're in, Rin catches up and pins Haru by his shoulders to the
nearest available surface, kissing his neck, shoulders, chin, everywhere he can
reach and alternating between lips, teeth and words.
"Stop me," he begs, even as Haru threads his fingers through Rin's hair, wraps
his hands in strands of blood-hued fibers and guides Rin up to his mouth. "Push
me away, Haru, because I can't--"
Silence falls between them, punctuated by the sounds of wet bodies, wet kisses
interacting with each other. Haru tries to catch Rin's next curse on his
tongue, learn the language through contact, and strokes the side of Rin's face
with his thumb as they kiss like they'd waited their entire lives for the
chance.
"I'm leaving in the morning. For Tokyo." The redhead manages, heaving chest
still pressed against Haru so close he can feel their hearts pounding at their
rib-cages like they wanted to escape, desperate for release.
"... Why?"
"Because I got a job out there. Full time entry level position. They tell me
I've got what it takes to work my way up the ladder--"
The implications strike Haru, and he understands why, now, the pain and the
dramatics. "You gave up on swimming."
"No! I just... I need the money, okay? I've still got so much to pay in medical
bills and you-- you can't know what it feels like to sit at home all day and
see your mother and sister working themselves to the bone to pay for
everything, and you can't help because you fucking tripped during practice
seven years ago!"
He's crying now, eyes still wide and bright and breathing coming in wretched
little gasps like he's not even aware of the tears flowing down his face. Haru
wants to kiss them away but he can't, he's not the kind of person who can do
that, so he just rubs the side of Rin's face and lets him cry. It doesn't last
long; a few ragged breaths then his ego kicks back in and he toughens up,
removes one hand from Haru's shoulder to wipe away the tears Haru didn't get.
"God, I'm such a mess. Look at me. Look at what you do to me, Haruka."
He wishes he could speak confidently, but all he can manage is a soft,
whispered promise as he leans in for one more kiss. "I'll wait for you. As long
as it takes. Just tell me you'll come home and... we'll swim together again."
"Do you mean it this time?" Rin's voice isn't harsh or accusing; he doesn't
have to bring up what happened last time they met because they both still
remember. But what happened then was a mistake, a fluke, and they weren't the
same awkward young adults who'd kissed at the table just because it felt right
at the time.
"Yes," Haru assures him because he needs to say it just as much as Rin needs to
hear it - and that one last kiss turns to two, and more, until finally their
lips lock, mouths opening as they seek to get impossibly closer to each other.
The kiss tastes a little salty now but Haru can't bring himself to care for
anything beyond the sensation, the soft insistent pressure of Rin's lips on his
mouth, Rin's hands on Haru's shoulders sliding down to bring their bodies
closer together, Rin's hair still ensnared around his fingers, everything in
his world is Rin and he wants to stay like that forever.
Until, of course, the heat and the friction starts to take its toll and other
options for the evening present themselves when his hips buck up against Rin's
almost involuntarily. The redhead breaks away to groan, deep and needy and
frustrated into Haru's neck. "Oh, fuck, I wanna fuck you so badly."
"So crude," Haru remarks, rolling his hips up and shivering at the sound that
wrenched itself from Rin's throat. "I promised you my swimsuit already, so--"
Remarkably, Rin tears himself away from the other and flies to his locker,
rolling through the combonation with shaking fingers. Haru watches him with a
detached sort of admiration, considering the fact that he's having trouble just
standing with the thought of this. It should feel more sudden, really, but in
actuality it's been nearly twelve years of foreplay, maybe longer.
And somehow in the heat of the moment, he recalls a memory from their old swim
club.
"Rin, do you remember what we did in the locker room, just like this? Right
before you went to Australia?"
Rin gives a strangled noise of frustration as he keeps rooting through his bag,
pulling out a strip of condoms and tearing one off with his tetth. "I can only
concentrate on one thing at once right now, Haru, enlighten me?"
"Do you remember when you dry-humped me back by the showers?"
All movement stops abruptly on Rin's end - he pauses, fingers wrapped around a
slick black bottle as he stands, slowly.
"...Yeah, I do. That's a damn weird coincidence, then, huh?  Don't worry, I'll
be better this time." And he winks, looking so much like the boy Haru remembers
from middle school, and any reservations he might have had about this is swept
away in a surge of affection strong enough that it's as though his feet don't
touch the ground again as they chase each other to the showers.  It takes his
forearms are pressed against the tiled shower wall to anchor him in the moment
again, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Water cascades down his back, a comfortably warm rush in perfect compliment to
the teeth nibbling at his earlobe as Rin's hand trails down his spine.  He
shivers anyway despite the heat of it all.
"You all right?" Rin murmurs, coarsely - and Haru nods, sucking air sharply in
through his teeth as one of Rin's fingers press against his entrance.
"Relax, then," the redhead urges, and Haru relents more out of his own desire
than any sort of demand, and he's rewarded by the sensation of one long,
thoroughly slicked finger snaking inside him. It curls and hits something
inside him that makes him actually gasp in pleasure. Haru's fingernails
scrabble for purchase against the tile as his spine bends, pressing the side of
his face against the wall.
"Rin," he breathes like a prayer, biting his lip on the inside as Rin's finger
moves, is joined by another and keeps coming oh so close to hitting that spot
again.
Ever the romantic, Rin presses a tender kiss onto Haru's cheekbone as his other
hand slides down Haru's chest, trails short fingernails across his ribs then up
to rub the pad of his thumb across Haru's pectorals. "I'm here."
He hits the spot again, and Haru really has to fight the sounds down this time.
The glare he throws over his shoulder isn't entirely sincere, but just as
heated at the one Rin gives him. Candlelight has turned into a forest fire, all
encompassing and he knows, he knows this fire is going to burn him from the
inside out; but that's all right because then they'll burn together. Martyrs of
their own passion; Haru can't think of a better way to go.
Rin's fingers withdraw, leaving him with a sense of loss that's replaced with
that of anticipation as Rin lays his palm on Haru's lower back.
"Ready?"
"Nnn-- yes," Haru growls as Rin makes as though to pull away - then gasps,
nearly choking on shower water as his hands claw at anything in reach. One hand
finds purchase by wrapping around the curtain rod, and thus secured Haru
relaxes with a shuddering moan as Rin pushes his way oh so slowly inside.
"Shit, Haru," wheezes Rin, his voice unsteady and deep as his hands lock around
Haru's hipbones, "you okay?"
"I'll be fine so long as you keep go--ah!"
His voice breaks as Rin's hips roll, sliding out only to hit that spot again,
and it's the slowest, sweetest torture Haru could have imagine. His breathing
comes hard and fast in his throat, his heart is pounding and his legs feel weak
but it's not enough as Rin repeats the motion, still slow and still a slick,
blissful agony.
"Faster," Haru begs, hating himself for it but he's going out of his mind with
the sensations - he wants more, needs more, even and especially if it's going
to hurt and leave him covered in bruises and teethmarks in the morning.
"Harder, Rin."
"No," Rin chokes, lips close to his ear as he pulls out nearly all the way,
hovers there for a moment. "I'm going to make you wait as long as I have."
But when he slams himself back into Haru, it's still got enough of the fervor
he wants that it feels like a victory. Next thrust they meet midway, with
mutual swears just audible above the sound of the shower.
"The water's going to run cold if you don't hurry," Haru insists, and almost
regrets it as Rin jerks his hips in a movement that makes Haru see stars, and
not because he'd just smacked his head on the tile wall. Rin grunts something
that might have been words at some point in time, but neither of them really
care. This time, when he leans in to sink his teeth into Haru's shoulder the
dark haired man is ready for him, and reaches back to tug on Rin's hair.
The throaty groan he gets in return tells him his suspicions were right, and
when he rakes his nails across Rin's scalp he rewarded with a new sound and the
equally thrilling sensation of Rin's fingers digging into the hollows just
inside his hipbones. It becomes a competition, then - Rin pushing and Haru
pulling, Rin biting and sucking as Haru rolled his hips in ways that made them
both gasp.
Victory, however, is Haru's when a shaking hand detaches itself from Haru's
hips to wrap around his before-neglected cock, pressing a thumb against the
head until a sharp cry broke free from Haru's lips.
"Don't hold back, Haru," Rin pants, suckling frantically against the side of
Haru's neck as he drives them both mercilessly to the finish, his own muttered
curses becoming more like whimpers with each second, with each drop of water
that ran down their backs to slide between their joined bodies and course to
the floor. "I want to hear you."
"Same, then," he gasps in return. "I also--nnn... ahh!" Haru's body shook as
felt his orgasm hit - his fist twisted in Rin's hair before releasing to grab
desperately at the wall as he bucked into Rin's hand, against Rin's hips. Any
concerns he had about falling cease when he's pinned against the wall by the
force of the climax of his old teammate, Rin's mouth at his ear as they ride
out the waves of pleasure so close it would have been hard to find any space
between them.
In the string of inarticulate language that trickles from Rin's mouth, Haru
picks up on something spoken in english he'd learned, somewhere, along the way.
"I love you."
They stay like this for a minute or two, just breathing in the other's warmth
and trying to fight off the exhaustion of post-coital lethargy. Thankfully,
Haru's right about the shower water running out, and pleasant heat starts to
transition into miserable lukewarm. Rin pulls out carefully, tossing the used
condom in the nearest trashcan as they head back to the locker rooms to share
towels.
Rin convinces him to share the largest of the redhead's towels with him, of
course, and even as Haru's damp skin brushes Rin's under the warmth of the
fluffy fabric, he shoots him a disapproving look.  They're curled up together
on the floor beside's Rin's locker, waiting for the strength to stand again.
"I hope you have extra clothes, because mine are lying in a puddle by the
pool."
Inexpicably, Rin's features look softer as he tilts his head up, presses a kiss
to Haru's forehead. "We'll swap. My extra clothes for your swimsuit. You can
even keep them to remember me by until I come back."
"I'll remember you just fine without them," Haru retorts, the words feeling
strange, cliche'd on his tongue. "But I'll keep them and wait for you just the
same."
His hand seeks out Rin's again, the same they held in the pool, and as their
fingers lace and they doze together, it's nice to believe that - if only for
tonight - this peace is something they can have.
 
***** There Is No Goodbye *****
Chapter Summary
     If only life would wrap up nice and neat like the present - but it
     has it's own agenda, and just like we don't chose when to say
     hello...
Chapter Notes
     Thank you so much for all your support - but it's time to wrap up
     this story now. See you at the end.
The water has never loved him like it loves Haru; like Haru loves the water.
 It's another one of those weird sorts of relationships he just can't butt in
on, like Makoto and Haru's lingering codependancy that used to bother him but
is more of a comfort when he's gone for months at a time.
It still bites that someone else gets to take care of Haru, but once this is
over... He's gone.
The water doesn't love Rin, but it respects him - it yields to him now, in the
final stretch, as his arms churn and he gasps for breath between strokes. It
supports the leg that still aches from time to time but not enough to slow him
down, not here, not when he's made it back here despite all hope.  There's no
suprise in his mind when his fingers hit the wall, no elated shock, just a
glance upward for confirmation of when he felt as soon as he hit the water,
then he smiles.
He's gotten used to a lot of this scene, but parts of it are still new.
The shorter cut and the purple stripes on his suit, the attention and cheers
that overwhelm his sense into a bizarre sort of silence, the rush of
satisfaction in himself and his team and everyone back home who's supported him
enough to make it here. But the weight of the gold medal around his neck is
still so strange that it feels surreal.  His teammates jostle him around, none
of whom believed his cold certainly in the weeks previous, but he's still glad
to have won it for them.  For everybody.
Rin kisses the medal and holds it up to the camera, knowing that everyone back
home is watching him, and he mouths a phrase.
"I'm coming home, Haru.  Wait for me."
===============================================================================
 
It's not really until he's walking back to the hotel with Seijuro that
everything seems real. He's almost ashamed to think it, but it's as if the
colors in the world are brighter, clearer; even the air tastes sweet. Rin's
gaze and heart are trained on the sky as they stroll in the safe space between
two buildings, in an area roped off from paparazzi. Maybe tonight, he can
finally try to get a hold of Haru, Gou, and everyone else back home.
He's been so busy the last month, he hasn't even had time to check his email
more than once. Not that Haru's one to talk often, but he wants to change that.
In just a few more days, Rin can finally go home.
Seijuro's shoulder bumps into his as they ride the elevator up together, water
still dripping down the backs of their necks, but they're shivering more with
elation than cold. "You look like you're in pain, Rin."
"My face hurts from smiling," he replies, his lips twitching up in the corners
despite this. "I'm not used to it, I guess."
The other redhead nods, his eyes brighter even than the medal he's wearing.
 "Yeah, your life kind of sucked hairy dick for a few years back then--"
"First of all, it was way more than a few years," Rin educates him with
mischief in his ruby eyes, dark joy swirling in his soul, "and hey, don't knock
dick until you try it."
"Gross, Rin. Who've you sucked off recently who hasn't been shaving?"
"No one."
Seijuro hesitates, then offers up a fresh question. "... Have you sucked off
anyone recently?"
"Why, Miko, I didn't think you swung that way. Miss my sister enough to try to
solicit favors from me?"
"Oh my god," Seijuro went pale, then red as Rin laughs at his friend and
teammate as they step out of the elevator and into the hall, plush carpet
muffling their footsteps but not their voices. "N-no, I just assumed that
you're a one man sort of dude, you know?"
Rin raises his eyebrows, inclines his head.  "I am. Well, I hope to be soon,
now that everything's over. I'm gonna go make a phone call, all right?" And he
jerks his head at an angle, indicating his hotel room door. Seijuro nods and
heads his own way, calling once more over his shoulder.
"Call if you need me, champ!"
Rin locks his door, with the full intent of calling up Haru on his computer and
having a long, sweet conversation - their first in months aside from casual,
mechanical emails he sends his somewhat-lover back home just to keep him in the
loop. Haru's quiet, especially recently, but that's okay. He understands.
They've been apart for longer than this.
But the box sitting myseriously on his bed calls his attention, and he picks it
up, tempted to shake it and determine its contents. Must have come in the mail
or something while they were swimming this morning, and he's not alarmed by its
appearance.  The handwriting on the surface of the box is his sister's, but so
poorly done it was misdirected at first. Rin shakes his head and rolls into
bed, placing the medal on the nightstand and cradling the box in his lap before
tearing it open.
Inside are two things - a letter and an old trophy.
He recognises the trophy from Haru's bedroom, the ribbon faded in places and a
tiny dent in the side from the one time he dropped it, like the asshole he'd
been and a perfect metaphor for the damage that can never really be undone. So
he moves on to the letter, tearing open the envelope and reading with a quiet
curiosity.
                                     "Rin,
 By the time you get this, it'll be too late for you to return in time for the
 cremation. Maybe your events will be over too, and I kind of want that to be
               the case since you never swim well with bad news.
  Haruka Nanase died in a car accident last night. It was raining and his car
                        swerved and went off the ro--"
Rin throws the letter to the side, runs his fingers through his hair and tries
to breathe. Stops, rereads the letter, skimming through the details written
with trembling hands because this cannot be happening. It's not real.
"Fuck," he gasps, jerking out of bed and onto his feet as if pulled by puppet
strings, cords that are cut moments later as he buckles, crumples and crumbles
on the floor of the hotel. He runs his hands over the pattern in the plush
carpet, his heart pounding and his thoughts spinning in desperate, terrified
circles like a caged animal because this isn't happening, this can't be
happening but he can't get out.  He needs to breath, to escape, to fly back
home even if he has to swim the ocean alone because he's going home to Haru in
just a few days, and Haru has to be there.  They've waited -- he's waited--.
Another involuntary curse rips out of his throat and he runs the three steps to
the computer, searching for a police report, for truth beyond what his sister
wrote. And he finds the official news, and a slew of emails he hasn't checked
for weeks, from Gou and Nagisa and Makoto and Rei and Nagisa and Gou and Nitori
and Nagisa and Makoto and Gou.
It's too much, too soon, too close to that sinking wrenching sensation that he
felt when his father died except it's so much worse. Not because he loved his
father less than he loves - loved - loves Haru, but because he understands so
much more what it means to never see someone again because this is happening,
it's happening again and he can't stop it.
The air itself betrays him, his body shaking with tremors as he paces,
collapses, tries to quickly run through every moment he's ever spent with Haru
and force them into blinding clarity because he knows now what it's like when
they fade. He knows too well what it's like to forget little pieces, like the
color of their eyes and the look of their favorite shirt and he's still wearing
Haru's fucking suit, god damn it. God damn it.
He's crouching at the foot of the bed on his hands and knees, a cornered animal
looking for a way out because there's no way he can get up again. He's an
anchor, he's lost his anchor and he's going to drift aimlessly and then sink in
the first storm and die like his father, and god damn it Haru Haru Haru please
come back I need you.
Rin doesn't know he's screaming until the slamming of the door shocks him into
silence, and he doesn't know he's crying until he looks up and the tears slide
down his face. Seijuro's expression goes from concern to terror to broken, and
when he takes a step into the room Rin flies at him, mostly because he's
standing between him and the exit and all he can think about is escape.
He's still screaming something, someone's name maybe, as he claws at Seijuro
trying to get away, to get to anything to make this ice cold agony stop. But he
can't, can't do anything but fight and bruise the only person here who would
have a chance, a snowflake's chance in hell understanding what he's going
through because Seijuro was there the first time he had Haru taken from him.
Maybe it's that anger from their first time at regionals that's bubbling up
now, making him plant his feet and throw punches that Seijuro catches two
thirds of the time, and it's not until all of his anger is spent that he
finally, finally accepts the hug.
Seijuro bustles him over to the other bed, not daring to touch the box or the
medal or the trophy, shoves him under the sheets and grabs the phone from the
nightstand. Rin lets him, his bare skin sliding against the sheets as he closes
his eyes. It's cold and his chest rises and falls...
...and falls.
===============================================================================
The kids running in front of him aren't his, but they may as well be - he can
see so much of himself, of Gou and their father in them. Rin leans on his cane,
but only a little, and his hair is still wine dark but shot through with grey
like his lover's ashes. He gives his sister a long look over his shoulder, the
box of offerings under his other arm.
"I'm not catching them for you this time."
Gou rolls her eyes and jogs after her offspring where their red hair flashes in
the late day sunlight like foxfire along the winding path. They've got two
stops today and only a few hours to do so, and as much as he adores his
sister's kids, they've got a lot to do today.  No time to horse around this
time.
Their first stop is the grave of Rin's parents. Before they set up the incense,
Rin pulls out one of his medals - bronze, individual 100m butterfly - from the
box, places it in front of the grave and kneels. Gou joins him, along with her
kids, though she has to yank on Hikari's ponytail to get her to lower her head,
and they pay their respects to their parents.  Rin wishes his mother well,
thankful for all her years of support even after he nearly abandoned them and
hopes that his father welcomed her with open arms, wherever they might have
ended up.
Cleaning the grave was almost always his favorite part as a kid, since he'd
generally try to compete with Gou over who could get their side cleaner in
later years, so he leaves that aspect to his niece and nephew as they scrub, a
serious expression on Shuu's face as he polished the stone surface, while Gou
has to chide Hikari for scrubbing too hard. Rin sits back on his heels, runs
his fingers through his hair, and smiles.
Smoke curls off the incense, wreathing around the grave like a child's embrace,
and then their private little ceremony is over. Rin waves away Gou's offered
hand as he stands up, gathering up the basket and the medal again as she
collects her children.
"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" he asks as she places Shuu on her hip
and kisses his small forehead. Gou nods.
"I think I'd rather take these two home and pass them off to their daddy."
Hikari obediently follows her mother, hugging Rin around his good leg before
she goes, and he return's Shuu's wave goodbye as he heads to the other grave on
his list.
It's a decent walk to the next place, and made even slower by the fact that his
knee's aching more than usually does; by the time he arrives he's the last one
there, and gives his three friends a gentle smile.
"Sorry I'm late."
Nagisa gives him a fierce one armed hug, offering subtle support that Rin
takes. "We've not been waiting long. Besides, it's been nice and peaceful out
here, hasn't it?"
Rei dips his head and smiles. "It's tranquil, just like Haruka."
And it is, honestly, just the kind of day Haru would have been if he could have
chosen the weather - it's in the wind that feels like spring itself even though
it's near summer, and fresh despite the nearby ocean.  It's damp, it's clean
and cool and it feels... 
Free.
Rin looks to Makoto, half expecting the tall man to offer some kind of
condolences afresh - but a few tears are running down his face. When green eyes
meet red, they pass a silent sort of acknowledgement, and Rin turns back to the
gravesite feeling not lighter, just softer.
He kneels then and withdraws another medal from the basket, this one shining
gold for the 100m team relay, and places it in front of the etched stone. His
fingers trace the kanji there, and his eyes close.
It's been years, but it still hurts him deep down to wonder.  How many hours
could they have spent together, if they hadn't spent so long missing the other?
How many times did they go wrong before things were finally right, just a
couple years before he died? He wants to know, maybe, on the off chance that
somewhere out there he'd be able to do things differently; but he can't change
things, not here. Not by now. It's just... Too late.
Rin takes in a deep breath of air, tastes the ocean on his tongue like a kiss.
"Wait for me, Haru," he prays, lips forming the words in silence as he bows his
head. "Just a little while longer."
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!