Chapter Text
{a sex-monster appears}
Tachibana Makoto was unusually inattentive at breakfast that morning. He paid no attention to his squabbling siblings - Ren and Ran performed their oft-repeated drama where Ran stole Ren's food so that they could make their kind-hearted brother offer up some of his to keep the peace (their brother was the best! kind of a sucker though), but Makoto hadn't even noticed their well-rehearsed fight, and disappointingly didn't offer up a piece of his rice omelette.
Makoto's mother had noticed the even softer than usual smile her son was sporting, and how he seemed to be staring off into the distance. She mischievously asked if something good had happened to him, but Makoto didn't notice his mother either.
He barely noticed the food in front of him, and it also seemed he'd forgotten the exact location of his mouth - this became apparent when he stabbed himself in the cheek with his chopsticks dreamily.
"Wow! Big brother must be in love!" Ran giggled, and Ren made a face that said, 'Yu-u-uck, love sucks', but Makoto didn't see or hear this either, and Ran giggled harder.
"Truly madly deeply in love," she repeated in a sing-song voice, and Ren mimed sticking his fingers down his throat.
"They do say love is blind and deaf," their father commented over his morning newspaper, amiably eyeing his oblivious elder son, "But I didn't expect to see such a literal demonstration of that." Naturally, Makoto didn't hear this either.
Somehow their brother managed the task of picking up his plate, putting it into the kitchen sink, and picking up his backpack and walking towards the door, humming to himself. It was blatantly obvious that he was doing all these things without any assistance from his brain or eyes or any discerning thought process. He even managed to vaguely wave towards the table and call “Goodbye.”
"My, I do hope he doesn't fall down the stairs," Makoto's mother murmured as the door closed behind him. And then she giggled behind her hand. He'd been humming Brian Adam's soppy love song 'Everything I do, I do it for you.'
This was all very sudden, she'd seen no warning signs of love-sickness leading up to this, and she had no idea what had happened to Makoto to make him suddenly act so drunkenly-in-love. It was a little sad - it would always be a little bittersweet for a parent to see their child growing up, she supposed - but it was nice to see her baby so happy.
(Luckily, the one thing the Tachibana family did not notice about their eldest son/brother that morning was that he was limping ever so slightly.)
Outside the door, Makoto sighed, deliriously, and somehow managed to navigate his way up the stairs without noticing.
He didn't even notice the white cat presumptuously lounging on the third step to the top, imperiously waiting for Makoto to give her his daily tickle under her jaw.
"I'd cry for you," he crooned (but softly, Makoto wasn't an exhibitionist, even armed with a great singing voice and in the throes of love), "I'd die for you! Something something, nani," his English wasn't great, in fact it was kind of awful, but the words of the song weren't difficult, "I'd lie-e-e for you! You know it's true, everything I do, I do it for you!"
And with that, he reached the door of Nanase Haruka's house, and his vision made a sudden and alarming reappearance, most of the cloudiness drifted away, and he saw, really saw the door in front of him. In exchange a wave of warmth assailed him, emanating from his chest and rising like the tide until the warmth settled on his cheeks glaringly, splashing out a little to tint his ears red as well.
Last night at 9PM he'd walked out of this very doorway and two things had been irretrievably lost to him forever. His first kiss was gone - just like that, like magic, and so was his virginity. And he'd gained one thing as well, a lover; a boyfriend. Last night at 6:13PM Haruka Nanase had confessed to Tachibana Makoto, leaning over a bowl of mackerel, and he'd promptly been robbed of his first kiss. And a little later that night the virginity had followed suit and gone slithering down the drain of forever.
If last night's dream-like sequence of events hadn't happened, Makoto would probably have been less than eager to give away his second first so rapidly after losing the first. He wasn't a prude or anything, but he'd always thought he'd greedily rather savour both moments separately, so that he had two memories to hold onto.
But he'd been so intoxicated after the confession he'd dreamed of but never thought he'd receive; so excited by the initially gentle and then passionate kisses; the warm throbbing feelings of his too-pliant body against that of the boy he loved; and by the look in Haru's eyes. Oh, that look in his eyes, the way he hadn't stopped looking, as if he would never look away. Makoto hadn't even put up a token protest by the time they were naked and a jar of aqueous cream had miraculously appeared in Haru's hands, because it was sex, and he was seventeen, and it was Haru, and he was seventeen, and it was everything he'd ever dreamed of. And he didn't regret it, because even though it was only one memory, it was the best memory he'd ever had.
Last night had been the best night of Makoto's life.
"...And can you feel the love to-night?" he hummed to himself and stretched a hand out to ring the doorbell, and then finally a little bit of the normal Makoto Tachibana asserted himself.
'But what if Haru regrets last night?' he thought, and his mental happiness clambered off Cloud 9 to settle on Cloud 8, possibly. He was still feeling good, treacherous thought or no. He gave the doorbell a quick ring, this was just a courtesy, and then without waiting started walking towards the back of the house.
'Maybe he thought he wanted this (he'd been very forward last night after all) but he didn't and now he wants to go back to being friends?'
No, no, there'd been that way Haru had looked at him all night, even after the main event where they'd cuddled for an hour and Haru had just touched and caressed and stared. Makoto had eventually reluctantly got out of bed and out of the bubble of amazingness - he'd promised Ren and Ran he'd read to them that night, but even then Haruka had given him a long lingering kiss at the doorway, and he hadn't wanted to let go of his hand.
He pushed the back door open.
'But what if he was just doing what he thought I wanted? Haru is a good friend and a good person, and maybe he knew I wanted this, and he doesn't and,' Makoto padded his way into the bathroom, 'And now he's stuck in a life-long relationship of servitude to me even if it wasn't what he really wanted, just to make me happy? What if he doesn't want me?'
The thoughts halted right there, because Nanase Haruka was in the bathtub as was his wont, but he was not listlessly staring at the bathroom tiles as he usually did, or submerging himself in water, half-ignoring Makoto. No, today he was staring at Makoto raptly, a hungry look in his eyes. Those electric blues held Makoto's gaze for a moment, and then the eyes lazily travelled downward, swiping across his torso and then his crotch, before settling back onto his face.
Makoto's blush made a reappearance, but he managed to act natural and stretched out his arm manfully, offering it to Haruka. Haruka eyed it speculatively, and extended his own hand.
"Ohayo Haru-ch..." Makoto began, and was promptly yanked into the bathtub, clothes and all.
After he finished sputtering in indignation, clothes drenched, limbs uncomfortably sprawled into all sorts of weird angles like a really big spider, Haruka calmly covered the back of his head with a wet hand and pulled their heads together. Makoto forgot about indignation (and spiders, yeurgh) for the moment and kissed back, 'Our first kiss on our second day of being a couple! And our first kiss in the bath - probably not the last knowing Haru,' he mentally marked down another mini-anniversary, and then pulled away. "Haru, my clothes are drenched! How can I go to school like this?"
"Let's not go to school," Haruka suggested blankly. His actions belied the monotone in his voice as he pulled Makoto's head closer again.
Makoto was strong. He had nerves of steel. He managed to pull away from the tantalising warmth of Haruka's lips yet again. "Mpphh, we have a test in Biology," he said sternly, but he couldn't help grinning a little giddily at the way Haruka was staring fixedly at his mouth, and how his gaze deliberately raked its way down Makoto's wet school shirt.
"So we'll go after lunch," Haru compromised, pulling Makoto closer - yanking his school tie this time, a most effective tactic - and locking lips. He did give into the kiss this time, moaning a little at the wet tongue lazily swiping at his already half-open mouth, at the hand lazily caressing his back through his wet shirt. Makotos' hands scrabbled for purchase to steady himself, and one hand balanced on Haruka's chest - so smooth and warm and hard, the other grasped the top part of a water-covered thigh. Which was when he realised Haruka was most definitely not wearing a swimsuit in the bath.
Haruka was wearing nothing in the bath.
His face heated up again. "Haru," he objected half-heartedly through the kiss.
"Isn't it fine?" Haruka mumbled through Makoto's lips. He disengaged, gently tilting his forehead against Makoto's, and looked at Makoto, really looked, blue eyes open and direct. "I want you," he said simply.
Huh. It seemed his worries had been for naught. Haru wanted him too; he still wanted him. Last night hadn't been a lie. He could confirm the truth of that in Haruka's shimmering eyes again, that steady honesty captured in blue, in daylight this time. His eyes said it even more convincingly than his lips had. 'I want you.' His left hand was his most convincing body part, it turned out, because it steadily pressed against the clasp of Makoto's pants, stroking once over an already shamefully interested erection. (He was seventeen.)
Makoto promptly turned into putty and leaned in for another, lingering kiss, ('anniversary of the first time I initiate kissing,' he mentally noted), and his hand shifted a little higher onto Haru's thigh as the other boy's hands deftly went to work unbuttoning his soaked school pants.
Amakato Miho's eyes bored into theirs when they traipsed into class just before lunch break, in time for the last ten minutes of algebra. Haruka seemed particularly unimpressed by this - as if it would be okay to turn up for art, but not algebra. He'd been very unimpressed in general that Makoto had finally wanted to leave the cosy, orgasmic world of the bathtub, had wanted to disentangle his limbs and wash off the sticky mess both of them had become in favour of going to school. Then he'd been unimpressed that Makoto didn't want to keep holding his hand on their trek through the school hallways, or that he'd prevented him from pushing him against the row of lockers outside the classroom for a quick make-out session where anyone walking past could have seen them.
Ama-chan was usually fairly lenient about latecomers, or even class-skipping (Haruka did that all the time anyway) but she seemed suspicious now.
Makoto suspected that the enormous hickey emblazoned on his neck had a lot to do with that - Haruka was no dolphin, Haruka was a bloody piranha, he'd feasted on Makoto's flesh. He'd tried to hike up his shirt so that the collar was higher and covered the flaming mark, but it hadn't been particularly effective, and looked weird anyway. Haru had had no concealer in his house, and Makoto had no intention of sneaking back into his own home at 11AM - long past the time he should have been in school - to steal his mother's concealer.
"So, why are you two," Ama-chan glanced at her watch, "three and a half hours late?"
Haruka eyed her like a lizard would eye a rock, and then opened his mouth.
Makoto just knew he was going to say something like, "We were having sex," without blinking. (And yes, that was certainly the truth, they'd had sex - they'd done it in the tub, twice, it had been mind-blowing, even better than last night, because they'd known what to expect this time. But Ama-chan-sensei did not have to know that. Honesty was a very admirable trait but sometimes you just had to lie) and so he cut in breathlessly. "We were saving. A kitten. From drowning."
Ama-chan looked at him as if he'd grown another head, and Haruka turned the implacable lizard-gaze onto him.
"It scratched me. On the neck. Here," Makoto improvised, pointing at the hickey. Haruka rolled his eyes, definitely unimpressed now. "It had very big claws, almost like a lion, even though it was so tiny. But we saved it. It took a long time. Three hours. Sorry for being late."
Ama-chan-sensei's hands were on her hips now. "And where was this kitten drowning?"
"In the sea," ohgods, he'd never get to heaven now, all this lying. "That's why it was so difficult, it was very small and..." Ama-chan-sensei's foot was tapping, "The sea is very big," Makoto finished lamely.
"Cats don't like the sea," Ama-chan said. Oh, she knew. She definitely knew.
Haruka nodded at this, apparently silently agreeing that cats didn't like the sea.
"And how did you two notice this tiny kitten in the sea?"
Haruka looked at Makoto enquiringly, as if he also wanted to hear the story.
"It was a miracle," Makoto muttered, fidgeting, "And err, it was ginger-coloured. So it contrasted with the blue. Of the ocean."
Amakata growled under her breath. "You boys," she muttered, and then wagged a finger, a sure sign that she was going to trot out some or other proverb or quote. "As George Washington said, “It is better to offer no excuse than a bad one,” and in this situation I’d interpret that to mean, ‘If you tell a lie, make sure it's a good lie.’ "
Makoto pretended to be confused. Haruka had lost interest, but instead of gazing out of the window longingly as he would usually have done, he was gazing at Makoto as if Makoto was a juicy, fat mackerel. Makoto squeaked and coloured.
"Your punishment is that you have detention in your lunch break, so that you can catch up to the work you missed while you were 'saving kittens'." Ama-chan glared at them meaningfully.
"It was only one kitten," Haruka said tonelessly, as Makoto hung his head obligingly and then returned to his desk, mentally wincing at the thought that he'd have to be sitting down on a hard surface for a few hours from now on.
Haruka followed. "That means we can't have a quickie in the locker room at lunch," he murmured desolately as he sat down, and Makoto buried his burning face in his arms.
{to yaoi!fangirl or not to yaoi!fangirl}
There was a rattle inside the swimming club locker room, and Kou paused with her hand on the doorknob. She'd expected to get to the club first - she usually did, unless Haruka-senpai ditched class to swim, and even then he could usually be found swimming in the pool, not in the locker room, so the rattling sound was a little unexpected.
She cocked her head - there it was again - rattle, rattle, followed by a thud. A rat, maybe? Thud again. Rattle. And that sounded like a breathy moan, a sort of 'aaaaah.'
Not a rat then. Kou's eyebrows shot up, and she pressed her head to the door carefully. Thud. And then, aha! "Haru, no! Not here!" No doubt that was the captain's voice, but - and Kou's cheeks reddened to match her hair - Tachibana Makoto sounded very flustered; his voice high and squeaky, and even through the closed door she could hear breathless panting.
'BL! Sex! Yaoi! Muscles!' the words passed through her head rapidly and reflexively. Her heart pounded, and torn between excitement and embarrassment she tried to compose herself. She was no fujoshi (she told herself primly), she preferred ogling muscles to watching men make out, but come on, it wasn't like she was averse to the thought of pretty pretty Makoto-senpai with his lovely, crinkly back muscles and hot Haruka-senpai; he of the magnificent triceps, kissing each other. The more she envisioned it, the more her face flamed, but she took a firm hold of her galloping heart and thumping pulse. 'You are not a yaoi-fangirl Kou,' she reminded herself. ‘Life isn’t about yaoi.’
No, life was about muscles, solitary beautiful muscles flexing on their own, or collectively. Life was a beautiful muscle symphony, a muscle harem, muscles prodding other muscles into beautiful, rippling muscular performances that deserved standing ovations and sonnets written to glorify them... She sighed and then backtracked.
Right, sexy noises in the locker room. Even though Haruka-senpai and Makoto-senpai did sometimes seem very gay for each other what with the meaningful stares and soft special smiles they showered on each other - she stifled a giggle at this, she wouldn't ever say that to them of course - they were no doubt massaging each other or something. There was a rational explanation for the sounds, there had to be.
'And the rational explanation is that they're having sex,' a dirty part of her subconscious whispered to her as Makoto-senpai let out another shuddering moan, and an "Ah, Haru-u-uu!"
And now the thumping sounds were intensifying and quickening, and it was 'thud-a-thud-a-thud-thump-thump-thump-thump-thumpthumpthumpthump,' and Kou backed away from the door, feeling heat spreading to her ears, her shoulders, somehow freezing her brain and body with it's warmth. Her heart was thumping almost in sync with the thuds coming from the locker room. She wished that it was her imagination, but the thumps were accompanied by sort of wet-slapping noises - really really dirty noises - and now Makoto was going, "Ah, ah, ah, ah, Haru! Ha-ru!"
'No way. No way. It's really really real sex.'
And finally the other participant made himself heard, and it was Haruka-senpai's voice, low and breathless, saying, "Come for me Makoto." Kou couldn’t help herself, it was too much too fast, so overwhelming, she was too young and innocent for this, she'd never even seen porn - she turned and ran.
{if i could turn back time}
When it was all over and done with Rei would retrace his steps on what he'd henceforth call 'that fateful day' and start by wishing that he hadn't carelessly left his copy of 'Madame Butterfly' in the locker at the swim club. (He'd been reading all sorts of butterfly literature lately, hoping to be inspired by that beautiful fluttering creature. Honestly though, the butterfly stroke didn't feel like a butterfly at all – it was not light and fluttery. It was powerful and heavy, and should maybe have rather been called the eagle-swoop-stroke or something, or possibly swimming-bear-stroke; maybe he'd be more inspired if he read about eagles or bears.)
He'd also subsequently wish he hadn't realised he'd left it, and fervently wish he hadn't decided that it was imperative to return to school halfway to the train station and go all the way just to retrieve a book that didn't have much to do with butterflies at all.
'After all,' he thought in the heavy throes of hindsight, 'It wasn’t like I would have had much time to read on that day. There was a lot of homework to do.' The homework hadn't been done, it had never been done, but he tried not to think about that.
It had happened nonetheless, regret it as he now might: he'd noticed the absence of book, he'd determined to go and fetch it - school would still be open for at least half an hour or so, and there was another train in an hour, he'd reasoned to himself - and his footsteps had traced that fateful path back to school; towards the swimming club and into the locker room.
And then, and then, he'd heard the voices coming from the pool. Oh, if only he hadn't heard the voices. If only he'd ignored the voices.
It had been Makoto-senpai and Haru-chan-senpai, and Makoto-senpai was laughing freely - he had such a bubbly, joyful laugh, rarely heard - Makoto smiled all the time but his laughter wasn't that frequent, and even Haru-chan-senpai was letting out low chuckles. Rei, still in the innocent confines of the locker room, felt himself beam at the sounds of the happy voices of the others. He really cared for his friends. He hadn't expected to feel that way about these people when he'd joined the swim club, but now their happiness was important to him, and their laughter could make him smile.
He didn't want to infringe on their privacy (oh, if only he'd run with that) but he couldn't resist just poking his nose out of the locker room to see what they were laughing at, or at least just to see them laugh and feel a little warmer. They didn't even have to see him, really, he'd thought. (He weeped at the memory of that thought now; they had seen him, and he had seen them, and he could never, ever unsee them.)
So he'd made that last fateful step and opened the club room door - not loudly, but not furtively either, and his gaze had alighted on them. At first he'd seen nothing particularly untoward - Makoto and Haruka were still in the swimming pool, next to the side, and Makoto's laughter had subsided into sweet, breathy giggles - such an unexpected sound from such a tall boy. Haruka was smiling and seemed to be hoisting Makoto up in his arms. That had surprised Rei a bit; those two were always close, and he envied their strong bond sometimes, but he'd never seen them be demonstrably affectionate physically. Perhaps they were dancing in the water? There was a school dance coming up, so it was probable that they were practising dancing, wasn’t it? Maybe he could ask for help too, he’d studied the theory on dancing, but practical application was often helpful.
Haruka blew a raspberry on Makoto's collarbone - 'very affectionate when they're not in public' Rei remembered thinking wonderingly, and feeling a little like a voyeur. "That tickles!" Makoto had sputtered laughingly, such an innocent sound, and Rei had started to smile indulgently. They were so swee...
And then his smile had frozen, because – he’d wished he'd somehow not been wearing his spectacles; if only he hadn't been wearing spectacles - he'd noticed the bright green and purple of two swimsuit jammers tossed carelessly next to the poolside.
His eyes had travelled back to Makoto and Haruka and focused beneath the water, even though he'd already been willing his eyes not to do that. Treacherous eyes, they hadn't obeyed, instead they'd slowly zoomed in on what was going on beneath the blue ripples of the water surrounding the two best friends. And then his mouth had joined in the treachery too and betrayed him solidly - et tu Brutus? - and let out a loud, startled yell, because Makoto and Haruka were naked in that water, and Makoto's legs were wrapped around Haruka's waist, and he couldn't see everything - thank god - but their hips were moving slowly and rhythmically, and THAT wasn't dancing, they were definitely not dancing, and he finally pulled his eyes away but it was too late.
Makoto had looked over Haruka's shoulder and seen Rei, let out a squawked "Rei!" and immediately coloured like a lobster. Haru-chan-senpai had merely tilted his head back, noticed Rei, nodded in calm acknowledgement, as if he were merely passing Rei in the school corridor and not having sex with his best friend in the school pool and tainting Rei's innocence forever.
Then he’d focused on the scrabbling Makoto who was trying to disentangle his limbs from him. Haru-chan-san had kept a firm grasp on Makoto-senpai's hips, preventing that. "Ignore him," Rei’d heard Haru-chan-san murmur, eyes solely on Makoto. "You're close right? Just focus on what feels good."
He still doesn't know whether Haruka's entreaties worked, (and he doesn't want to) because at this point Rei's feet, entirely without any direction from his brain, decided to make a run for it to prevent more emotional scarring.
{get yer free live porn now, get it while it's hot}
Nagisa's grin widened as the noises he’d heard when he opened the boy's bathroom door - squelchy slapping noises and heavy breathing - suddenly subsided.
"Wait. Someone's here," someone hissed in a whisper. To his credit, the whisperer was really quiet, but too bad for him, Nagisa had superb hearing, he was like a bat. He could hear everything.
"So what? Let’s keep going," another voice hissed back petulantly - this one wasn't making that much effort to be quiet.
"Please, let's just stop till he leaves," the first whisperer wheedled, and he could hear two people reining back their breaths, he could feel them trying to remain absolutely motionless. He almost whistled as he sauntered over to the tap and bent over to take a drink of water.
Someone in the bathroom stall let out a tiny tiny breath, and he thought he heared the slight scuffle of a shoe. Nagisa was not naive, duh, there were two guys in there having sex, and they were obviously waiting for him to leave.
...So he was going to tease them of course.
He made a show of turning off the tap and then grinned at his reflection in the mirror. Even he was a little surprised at the deviant glint in his own eyes. Then he walked back to the bathroom door, slowly, suspensefully. Tap, tap, tap, were the sounds of his shoes slowly, very slowly ambling across the tiles. He could faintly hear the dripping of an unclosed tap, and the stilted breaths of two, yup definitely two people in the bathroom stall on the far side. One let out a small sigh of relief as Nagisa reached the door and started pulling it open, slowly, slowly... and then, perversely, he abandoned the door and ambled back towards the tap loudly.
One of the boys couldn’t help it, they let out a sigh of disappointment, quickly muffled - Nagisa supposed the other guy had clamped his hand over the sighing one's mouth. He stared at the tap for a while, twiddled his thumbs, and then repeated his previous performance of slowly, slowly sauntering back to the door. He wanted to cackle with laughter, really, he could just about feel the exasperation of the two boys in the air, it was so thick.
This time he did fully open the door and walked out of the bathroom, even letting the door swing almost shut behind him. He left it slightly ajar to listen through though. Nagisa hovered, grinning wickedly.
Immediately, stupidly, the sounds of frantic sex resumed, muffled but still audible through the crack in the door, and Nagisa felt a little flustered despite his evil intentions. Those two were really going at it. Nevertheless, a little embarrassment had never stopped Hazuki Nagisa. He could hear muffled groaning too, it sounded like they were both trying to hold back their voices, and not entirely succeeding.
He waited until the sex sounds were speeding up and it was obviously becoming more difficult to hold back the moans, and then he gleefully opened the door again with a mighty creak and walked back into the bathroom.
As expected the sounds stopped again, but he could sense that it was more frustrating and difficult this time to be quiet, to not move. The air also smelled more pungent now, more sweat, more sex (Nagisa’s nose was hella-fine too.) 'They're probably close,' he thought, and slowly and torturously started the task of washing his hands in the sink, all the while pricking his ears for every breath let out, every muffled squeak. The soap made squelching noises, and Nagisa washed his hands more thoroughly than he ever had in his life, paying inordinate attention to the bubbles the pink liquid made. It took at least three minutes.
Then he turned off the tap, and the water petered down to trickle, and then a drip.
"You don't have to stop on my behalf, you know. It's not good to hold it in," he finally, and casually informed the bathroom at large, and there was an embarrassed squeak from the stall against the wall - a familiar squeak, actually.
Nagisa bent down, unashamed, to look at the shoes in the last stall - yup, Makoto's big orange shoes were there all right, and hey, those blue ones behind them were definitely Haru-chan's.
"Hi Mako-chan, Haru-chan!" he said sunnily, and the two people in the stall went "Urk."
"I hope you're using a condom," Nagisa continued, drying his hands cheerfully. There was absolutely no response, although he could sense Makoto burying his face in his hands, he has a kind of sixth sense for these kind of things – it was like he has super-hero powers when it came to people being embarrassed, it was kind of awesome. (Or maybe he just knew his friends that well.)
"And remember to wash your hands afterwards. Happy sex!" he said, and punched the air.
{swearing is caring}
Mikoshiba Seijuuro was standing outside the shower room, laughing explosively and expansively, ears decisively red when Rin finally made his way over there. He'd opted for swimming an extra ten laps in an attempt to avoid the Iwatobi-congregation. They had once again managed to weasel an invitation out of someone to swim at his school and had invaded the pool.
He eyed his laughing captain for a moment - nobody was with him, and he didn't see anything overtly funny in the immediate surroundings - but then Mikoshiba was the sort of person who laughed loudly and warmly, often at nothing in particular that Rin could see. He was just that kind of cheerful, unembarrassed person. It was kind of annoying.
Time to shower then, hopefully Haruka and hangers on had already left the locker rooms and gone home, where they belonged. He brushed past his captain, and was surprised when a firm hand clasped his shoulder. Mikoshiba attempted to reign in his gasping hyena-laughs long enough to say, "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."
"Tch," Rin grumbled, "What, they're still busy in there?"
Seijuuro let out an agonising peal of laughter at that. "They're still busy in there," he wheezed, and Rin scowled - whatever, the captain was really strange today - and pushed his way into the shower room regardless of the heavy warning hand on his shoulder. It was fine, he'd ignore them then if they couldn't move their arses quickly enough to...
Oh gods.
He exploded reflexively, backing away back to the comparative safety of the door as he did so.
"Jesus, what the fuck Haruka? Holy shit, what are you...? Makoto, that's fucking indecent, fucking hell! ...This is not okay. It's not okay. You bastards! Fuck."
All he could think of as he desperately heaved against the door to get away were the innocent faces of 9-year old Makoto and Haruka, large eyes shining as they giggled at Rin's jokes, as they cried over goldfish, as they said, "I only swim free." How had that turned into this? ...How had they managed to get into that position anyway? Was Haruka double-jointed?
He managed to push back through the door and his wild eyes met the knowing, laughing ones of Seijuuro Mikoshiba.
"Fuck," Rin said simply.
"Maybe it's best to take a shower in your dorm room," the captain said sagely.
Rin didn't need telling twice.