That One Night
When Rin first met him, the man was currently pending for the teen's execution. It wasn't the greatest first impression for the both of them. When his impending death was delayed on the accounts that the Paladin would train him alongside Shura - the man made it abudantly clear he hated anything to do with Satan, including Satan's spawn, a.k.a. Rin.
It didn't even matter to the Grigori, or the Paladin that he had saved Kyoto from the Impure King. He was a demon. A wild card. Untrained. Unrestrained. Not even when Rin told them of his goal, all the people in the council saw only a demon, doesn't even matter if he was half human too.
Sometimes, Rin wanted one of his demonic half brothers to destroy the Grigori and it's obnoxious members.
They sort of answered in the form of Yukio and a reunion with his blood father.
At the end of the intense battle with the Gehenna Gate detroyed, Satan defeated (not dead, because the Demon King of Evil Incarnate was and still is immortal), his brother turned into his demonic half, and everyone he loves alive, Rin was relieved. He did scowl when a couple of the Grigori survived, and glared, mollified when they ran with their figurituve tails between their legs.
The victory dinner turned into a full blown wild party, when Shura and Shima decided to spike the drinks, hire dancers and kidnapped a DJ priest. The room was lit in black light, disco ball sparkling, the floor smoking and the music blaringly loud. Then, as if to make the night worse (depending on the viewpoint) Lighting decided to bring his bartender friends and made an on-site bar. The night descended into chaos. A good kind of chaos that didn't involve fighting to death, or non-friendly demons.
When Rin tried his first alcholic drink that wasn't spiked, it was beer. He hated the colour straight away, the smell of it following after. Rin didn't deign it another glance and handed it over to Konekomaru who was already tipsy. Drink after drink, he tried each one with a sip, and only after that sip he would give it away to the closest person next to him; when finally, he found something he liked. A sweet spice full of a fruity flavour. He didn't give the drink to anyone. On his second glass, Rin glanced to the side and almost choked at the sight of his brother. Apparently, the person he kept handing drinks to was his younger twin, who was more than tipsy, but enough for his inhibitions to release, uncaring of others in the room.
Well, his brother lived up to his reputation as a ladies man. Yukio was comfortably squished in a sandwhich of a very drunk Sheimi and Shura, their hands glinding over his body, his brother's mouth attached to Shura's neck, his hand creeping under Sheimi's top. Rin turned red and swivelled around. His baby brother, his poor baby brother image was ruined.
The half-demon was startled out of his thoughts when he came face to face with the very person who wanted anything Satanic dead, preferably with it's head detached. Rin grabbed another cocktail, not wanting to be comprehensive when dealing with the Paladin. He raised a brow at the man, the man sneered a patronizing smirk. The elder twin turned back to the bar and grabbed another of his drink, the man did the same. Rin clenched his jaw, finished his drink and grabbed another cocktail. The man stared him down from his nose.
Rin wanted to move away from the Paladin, wanted to be as far as is physical possible, but that would be admitting defeat. He glared at the man. He didn't want to lose whatever the staring match they had started began. Rin grabbed another drink, the man following, and the cycle repated again and again, Rin only able to stand through sheer stubborness, despite his vision swimming, or anything clearly processing in his brain.
It was noon the following day of the Victory Party when Rin woke up. A pounding headache that was quickly receding, his throat sore, stomach twisting and the urge to find the nearest toilet a priority. When he had tried to get up, his body was unable to move when a heavy limb tightened around his torso, fingers gripping his hip in warning and loosening. Slowly, robotically and with apprehension, he traced mascular arm up, to a toned shoulder, and he closed his eyes at the sight of that hair. That long, golden, blonde hair. Rin didn't even need to see the face attached to know whose hair it belonged to. He peeked anyway and witheld a scream at foggy blue eyes staring at him and froze, waiting for the inevitable fall out. The man did none of that and shifted a bit, placed an open mouth kiss to Rin's bare shoulder and went straight back to sleep, blue eyes closing.
Rin looked under the blankets, hands shaking at the nakedness of everything, and gently removed the limb on his torso. It took a while, after many close calls, but lots of sleepy nips and kisses to his shoulder that the arm was loose enough for Rin to get out of bed and hopefully far away from the place. He sat up, and almost screamed at the sudden shot of pain down his backside.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Rin did not just...
He did not do...
He was not...
He was so dead.
But maybe it was a misunderstanding? Maybe the pain was from something else? Not what the explicit porn books of Izumi indicated. No way.
Rin gently tried to stand from the bed, the pain shot up, his legs trembled and he held on to the bed for a soft landing. He did not want the other occupant in the room to be awake. Taking another breath, he still needed that toilet, Rin did his best to walk to his destination or find it, the wall a constant companion in his time of need. When he did find it, he didn't look in the full length mirror until he finished washing hands and froze on the spot. He wanted this to all be some wierd nightmare-ish dream, and he'd wake up in some back alley or in his dorms if someone was merciful enough. Because standing as his reflecting was his naked body covered in small bruises. Everywhere. He turned around and looked back, cried inside as bruises also decorated his back side, and to his horror a bite mark on his rump as if it was chewed multiple times.
He knew what those bruises were. Those dreaded bruises he would laugh at the person's misfortune when reading manga. Hickies. Those same hickies decorating his body as if someone had just eaten him multiple times and craved for more. Hickies that trailed from his neck, down to his back, to his rump, thighs and ankles. He turned to face the mirror again and cringed. He had a choker full of hickies on his neck, a bite mark on each shoulder, more hickies going down, larger ones on his inner thighs, finger bruises on his hips and Rin wanted to cry in horror.
He was dead. He was dead. He was so dead, dead, dead!
Not wanting to be in wherever he was any longer, Rin did his best to walk back to the room, stopped at the bathroom door, his eyes widening at the trail of clothes from the bedroom to what he assumed would be the entrance. Shaking slightly, Rin picked up his clothes, following it to the entrance, his buttonless shirt in his arm (Rin knew just who was responsible for ripping his shirt open), his briefs, and a tie that landed on the door knob. Rin did not eye the stain on the wooden door, nope he did not, because if he did...Nope!
Nope. Don't think. Don't think. Don't even try to remember.
He put on his clothes that he had picked up with a tremble of pain shooting up his body, his muscles sore, and picked up the other man's clothes, folding it absentmidedly as it led him back to the room he woke up in. Slowly opening the door, he put on his remaining clothes, folded the other man's clothes and placed it onto the study table by the wall. He touched his exposed skin, the hickies obvious on his neck, no matter how high he put the collar up, or the ones he saw behind his abused ears.
Grimacing, Rin observed the sleeping occupant for a moment, and then turned to the closet. When he had glanced past the curtained windows, the view was gradually being painted in white, a soft breeze pulling the frozen particles through the air. Rummaging through the closet as noiselessly as possible, Rin grabbed the first warm looking coat, gloves and a thick scarf all in white with golden blue accents. He grabbed a baby-blue beanie and white earmuffs decorated in blue-gold to finish his attire. Satisfied, he took another look at the lump on the bed, golden hair spread out, and walked out the bedroom door and finally the door of the house. There, his walk of shame began.
At the entrance of the Old dormitary, Rin was joined by another figure. Another, familiar figure.
"You too?" His mouth twitching at their predictment.
Beside him Yukio glared.
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