So I rescued myself from the angst that is the Arabian fic, and decided to write this because, why the hell not? Sousuke is a sexy son of a bitch, and Rin loves his body, and that's really all there is to it. Because everyone needs Sousuke being a little bit of a tease.
Sousuke is an alien. Or, alternatively, just a very lucky son of a bitch.
This is the only conclusion Rin can reach, because how else can you explain Sousuke's perfect body, his godlike dimensions, the depth and clarity of his smug teal eyes? Sousuke's a real lady-killer - all the girls they meet on the street know it too, and stare at him as he walks past. They'd probably gravitate towards him too - girls are bold these days, Rin shudders - except that he usually has a resting 'fuck off' face which causes even the most courageous of suitors to reconsider their options. Rin's a little sore about his best friend's seemingly endless pot of brooding charisma, but hell, he's not jealous!
Okay, maybe before Sousuke had come to Samezuka and when he'd gone out by himself, he'd drawn his fair share of stares from women, and maybe now they don't look at him as often as they do his childhood friend, and maybe now more often than not when they approach him it's to ask for the number of his "tall, dark stranger friend", but no, he's not jealous, for God's sake. Sousuke is his best friend, after all.
Okay, maybe he is, just a little bit.
Rin is lying on the lower bunk in Sousuke's bed (heaven only knows why Sousuke has a goddamn bunk bed when he lives alone) and reflecting about the unfairness of life. They've gone home to Iwatobi for the summer, and Sousuke's letting him crash at his place for a while, just until Gou and their mother get home from some dumb three-day spa trip. Why they need three days at a spa, doing absolutely nothing, is beyond Rin's comprehension as a mere man.
Suddenly, he hears the sound of the shower stop. He looks up casually, only to hear Sousuke's voice.
"Hey, Rin," he calls, and Rin scowls, because even his voice is fuck-me sexy - not that he would ever say so to the other man's face, of course. Sousuke would just get that stupid shit-eating grin on his face which would make Rin want to punch him, so, no, he's never going to compliment Sousuke's voice or his body or even his fucking eyes again. He doesn't reply, choosing instead to huddle up closer inside his blanket and close his eyes, pretending not to hear anything Sousuke is saying. After a few moments of the latter trying to unsuccessfully call his attention, he hears a loud sigh, and the squeaking of the shower door. There's a quiet rustle of fabric, a soft swish of terry cloth over skin, and then the sound of Sousuke's wet feet squeaking on the bathroom tiles. Rin curses - he swears Sousuke does that on purpose, because he knows how much Rin dislikes that sound. He burrows tighter into the bedsheets, and squeezes his eyes more tightly closed.
Rin hears the sound of the bathroom door opening, and the familiar sound of Sousuke shaking his head to get all the droplets out of his hair. He has to smile a little at that, because the image of Sousuke violently shaking his head, his floppy wet hair swishing around like that of a large husky dog, is always one that never fails to bring amusement to him. After he towels off his hair, Rin hears the sound of his soft footsteps padding over towards him. He counts his steps with bated breath - one, two, three, four, five, and then the footsteps stop. He can't breathe.
Then he hears Sousuke's voice right next to his ear, and he can't help uttering a little squeak of surprise. He whirls around, scowl already in place, ready to give Sousuke a piece of his mind and maybe a little lecture about personal space, but suddenly he's staring into Sousuke's amused blue eyes and he can't think of anything to say. The acerbic words die an early death in his throat, and he realises that Sousuke's face is very, very close. There's a vague five-o-clock shadow across the sharp line of his chin - goddamnit, he's Japanese, he shouldn't have facial hair heavy enough to leave a shadow - and Rin can see every detail of his sculpted, thin lips. His eyes latch onto a droplet of water suspended along the side of Sousuke's face, and he follows its trail down the angular squareness of Sousuke's jaw, down the dark defined hollow of his throat, down the smooth expanse of his left pectoral, over the toned, bunched flesh of his abdominals, and all the way down... below. Rin realises that Sousuke's only wearing a towel over his nether regions, and he swallows, hard. His throat is dry.
Then he realises that Sousuke's been calling his name, and that he now has the exact same shit-eating grin on his face as when Rin had told him (it had been an accident, and Rin had been sleepy and off his guard, and that's the story he's sticking with no matter what) that he'd better tone the sexiness down a notch or he'd get some girls pregnant just by looking at them.
"Rin," Sousuke calls, and this time he extends one large hand and shakes Rin firmly on the shoulder. "Rin, you didn't answer me when I asked for a shirt."
Rin gives him a fearsome scowl, one which he has called specially from the depths of hell for Sousuke, and turns pulls the blanket over his head. "I didn't hear you," he mumbles sulkily, and despises Sousuke for being the only one who can reduce him to this petulant, childish state. Sousuke gives a soft laugh - shit, it's that low, rumbly one which always does something weird to his insides - and there's a quiet swish as he stands up. From the bunk above him comes rustling sounds as Sousuke rummages through the clothes in his bag, looking for something to wear. He hasn't unpacked yet, and neither has Rin.
Now that there isn't the slightest chance of Sousuke catching him in the act, Rin cautiously moves his head out from the blankets. No harm getting a little close-up, amirite? No homo between bros, after all. Then he realises Sousuke's crotch is directly in front of his face, separated only by the terry cloth of the towel wrapped around his waist. He feels a queer roiling sensation in his chest as he realises that, true to form, everything about Sousuke is bigger than average. Including his bulge.
And then he watches in a kind of horrified trance as he sees the knot tying the towel around Sousuke's waist start to slip, and come undone, jostled by the friction of his slim hips moving around restlessly. Rin watches as the towel starts to slip lower, lower, all the way down, and he can see the dark line of hair trailing and deepening down the hard line of his abdomen. He sees the jut of bone at Sousuke's hip - the last bastion of hope keeping the towel attached to his body - and suddenly he finds that he's not breathing again, because somehow he wants the towel to stay solidly up, thank you very much, but somehow he also wants it to slide all the way down.
He's never realised happy trails could be so sexy, mainly because everyone around him usually shaves their entire body to increase their speed in the water - you don't see sharks speeding around in the ocean with hair on their abdomen, after all - and he's just never seen anyone's happy trail before. Shit, it is fucking sexy, and he has to remind himself that he is not gay in the least for his best friend. But Sousuke's skin is dark, and tanned, and it looks deliciously touchable. Rin doesn't know if he can stop himself from reaching out and just following that trail all the way down and again, so he clenched his fists and digs his nails into his palm. He bites his lip and feels his teeth draw blood as he watches the towel move, slowly, tantalisingly, centimetre by centimetre, over the smooth expanse of his abdomen...
Then, just as the towel begins to come apart, and he sees the last slip of the knot begin to falter, Sousuke catches it with his hand. "Whoops," he says casually, and deftly hitches it up his body, re-tying the knot with a few swift twists of his fingers. Rin exhales explosively, and then covers his face with his hands, hoping to hide his blush. Damn it, why is he blushing in the first place? He thinks detachedly that this would be a highly ignominious way to die.
"Why the hell are you taking so long to find a shirt," he mutters, the words more of a statement than a question. Sousuke chuckles, a warm, friendly sound which sends shivers down Rin's spine. He likes that he's the only one who gets to see this side of Rin, that he's the only one who makes Sousuke relaxed enough to laugh around him, but he also doesn't like feeling his stomach and respective innards twist themselves into pieces whenever he hears Sousuke express any kind of amusement at all.
"You're the one who always tells me I dress like an old man," he rumbles. "Just making sure I don't embarrass you when we go out later." You could never embarrass me, Rin wants to tell him, because, although he'll never admit it, he likes Sousuke's fashion sense. It's no-nonsense and sensible and incredibly hot in a simple kind of way, and besides, he can't see Sousuke in any other clothes. Even from young Sousuke had chosen plain chequered shirts over the trendier and more fashionable outfits Rin wore. Besides, he doesn't need fancy clothes to stand out, and anyway he doesn't like exposing too much skin. Rin has teased him about that countless times - he's a swimmer, after all, and exposing his arms or his abdomen is nothing new, and nothing to be ashamed of, but this is one thing which has never really caught on.
(Besides, Rin doesn't think he could handle it if Sousuke started dressing like him. He's seen Sousuke in a tank top before, and God, people are always teasing him about his cleavage, but actually, the one they should really be jealous of is Sousuke.)
"Just make sure you don't catch a cold," he answers, and he sounds less acerbic than he had planned. "Walking around half-naked like that, you're just asking to fall sick."
"Yes, mom," Sousuke quips in reply, and Rin clearly hears the teasing laugh in his voice. The little shit, he tries to be nice and caring and this is what he gets? Fine, see if he cares when Sousuke gets laid up in bed because he refused to listen to his advice. It would serve him right.
Sousuke finally finished rattling about with his things, and yanks out a dark blue shirt. He pulls it over his head with a swift movement, and Rin peeks out surreptitiously between his fingers at the way his biceps bunch and twist. Seriously, does one really need to exert so much strength to wear a single fucking shirt? Sometimes, he swears, Sousuke's doing these things on purpose.
After a few exaggerated seconds of Sousuke putting his shirt on, he pulls something out of his bag. It's a pair of boxers, and Rin's mouth goes dry. Again. He holds his breath unconsciously as he watches Sousuke's hand stray to the knot on his waist, his index finger slipping in between the loop, his other hand resting on the towel and ready to push it down, when he pauses, and looks at Rin.
The grin on his face is a masterpiece. It's smug and innocent and terribly captivating all at the same time - where had he learned to smile like that, Rin wonders angrily, because he sure never learned it in Samezuka - and its meaning is clear: "Gotcha."
"I'm flattered by your attentions, really I am," Sousuke says drily, "but I'd appreciate a little privacy to put on my underpants."
Rin's face is a flaming mess of colour, and he absolutely detests the way Sousuke's smirk widens a little bit, like it's on the verge of turning into a full-blown chuckle, or maybe even - Rin shudders - a laugh. He hopes Sousuke doesn't laugh. He's embarrassed enough already as is.
"Who's looking at you," Rin grumbles, but he swiftly turns to face the other way and takes out his phone. He surreptitiously googles 'is everyone a little bit gay'.
"What're you looking at?" Sousuke rumbles, his breath glancing off the curve of Rin's ear, and the latter almost leaps out of his bed. He tries his best, though, and ends up with a bump on the head. Sousuke really needs to stop that voice-beside-the-ear thing, because one day Rin's going to have a heart attack and he's going to come back as a ghost and haunt him to the end of his days.
He glares daggers at Sousuke and rubs the top of his head furiously. "Stop doing that," he snaps, waving his hands inarticulately in the air. "Stop doing that... thing... Whatever it is you're doing. Stop emitting pheromones or whatever steroids you're on. Stop it right now!"
He knows he probably sounds like he's high on drugs and like a complete incoherent fool, but he can't help it. Sousuke's always inspired feelings of comfort and absolute happiness in Rin, but sometimes, when he's being an asshole - like right now - Rin doesn't know what he feels about Sousuke and his goddamn body, and it makes him angry. He wonders why he has such a primitive reaction to Sousuke's body. It's not like seeing him naked is a thing he's uncomfortable or unused to - they swim together, for God's sake, and they're practically half-naked next to each other all the time, and he'd even felt a spark of pride when Ai had commented under his breath in awe: "So that's the body of a nationally-ranked swimmer." So yes, he's proud of Sousuke's body, proud that it makes other swimmers stare at him in both awe and envy, but sometimes it makes him feel strangely hot and bothered and he doesn't like feeling that way about his best friend.
Sousuke picks the phone up from between his fingers and twirls it around absent-mindedly. "Hmm, I wonder what Rin's password is," he says aloud, tapping his chin with a mock-serious expression. "I wonder if it's the same password he used for his diary when we were eight years old." Rin's face darkens, because of course it's the same password, and how does Sousuke even still remember that? He lunges for the phone – heaven only knows what would happen if Sousuke finds out what he's been googling – and they end up toppling off the bed and onto the floor. Rin's somewhat relieved that Sousuke lands on his right shoulder instead of his left, but that doesn't mean he's going to show any mercy. He jabs his elbow into Sousuke's stomach, hard, and Sousuke chokes, his fingers going limp. The phone thuds down on the ground and they stare at it for a few moments.
Then Rin starts laughing, and Sousuke joins in, his deep bass rumble melding perfectly with Rin's cheerful baritone. They grip onto one another's biceps and laugh until their stomachs hurt, and Rin collapses onto Sousuke's chest, his own still heaving with laughter.
It's then that he realises that Sousuke's still only wearing a shirt, and his boxers, and that they're pressed close – particularly close – together.
He feels something change in the air around him, a queer tension which infuses the air and makes all the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen up. Unconsciously, as he always does when he feels unsure of anything, he looks into Sousuke's eyes, and that's his first mistake. Sousuke's eyes darken into liquid blue, and Rin can see hunger and a strange desire blossom within them. He can see every brilliant glistening eyelash, every strand of dark hair on his head; he can feel his own breathing grow heavier, can feel the hardness of Sousuke's rising chest under his fingers. He can feel the bulge of Sousuke's underwear pressing insistently against his inner thigh, and if he thought he was blushing furiously earlier, it's nothing compared to the shade of violent purple his face is right now. Sousuke's shirt has ridden up, and Rin's eyes trail unwillingly down to the skin of his abdomen. There is a faint sheen on the tanned expanse, whether from sweat or the shower water Rin does not know, but it gleams in the dim light of the room, and he forces himself to look back into Sousuke's face. Sousuke looks steadily back into his eyes, and his tongue flicks out, very deliberately, to lick at his lips. He opens his mouth to speak.
And Rin's phone rings.
The sound is like an alarm cutting through the tension in the air, and Rin automatically scrambles off Sousuke, reaching for the phone on the ground. He grabs it like it's a lifeline and he's been stranded on a raft in the middle of the sea, and holds on tight, unlocking the screen with a finger that isn't quite steady. He dimly hears Sousuke sigh, behind him, and then the sounds of the bigger man leisurely getting to his feet. He stares mutely at the bright screen of his phone, eyes scanning unseeingly over the black text running over his screen. It's a text from Gou, a cheery greeting with an emoji at the end, telling him that they're really enjoying their spa trip and they miss him tons and they'll be back soon. Rin refuses to look back at Sousuke until he hears the sound of the bunk bed ladder creaking, and a loud 'whump!' as Sousuke settles himself on the upper bunk.
Only then does Rin allow himself a last quick peek at Sousuke, hoping he won't notice, but unfortunately, Sousuke is hanging over the metal bars at the side of his mattress, looking down at Rin in obvious amusement. Rin's face is dusted with a light blush, and just as he's about to say something to diffuse the tension, Sousuke beats him to it.
"You always did prefer the bottom, didn't you? I remember we used to fight over it." he asks, his voice deep. He crosses his arms behind his head and flips over so he faces the ceiling. Rin can't see his face anymore, but he can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, "But I think… Yes, I think, now, I prefer the top."
If you have ideas for future chapters where Sousuke is sexy and Rin appreciates dat sexy (I cannot emphasise this enough) just leave a comment and I'll probably take it up! Or message me on tumblr at kitcatkandy and we can squeal together :3