Free! doesn't belong to me. Neither does High Speed!
Prompt: "It's not like I missed you or anything."
Will you call?
.
"You're leaving again."
It's not a question, and Rin doesn't deny it. He suddenly remembers there are dishes and cutlery in the sink, waiting to be washed, and stands up to do it ("I practically move in here every weekend, it's the least I can do.").
Haruka may not be the most suitable person to guess what's in Rin's head –and perhaps he's only good at getting him into trouble, like Sousuke claimed months ago–, but he can swear the invisible weight lowering Rin's head and shoulders is made of something that looks almost like guilt.
He's overthinking, again. Leaving to spend some years in Australia again isn't a bad thing –even though Haruka still feels a bit resentful towards that place for almost taking Rin away from him– and it makes sense that he wants to prove himself he's stronger than what four years abroad turned him into. It's Haruka the one who, again, avoided facing the facts, who didn't want to think about the implications of Rin's words the day he woke him up early to watch the sunrise until now, when it's so close that Haruka's first instinct to deal with it is kicking Rin out of his grandmother's house and pretending he doesn't care while he drowns his bitterness in his bathtub.
Why do I always end up like this?
Haruka exhales slowly through his nose. He can reason to himself that there's nothing wrong with Rin leaving for a while; but there's no way to avoid the fear of living through the same pain than that winter afternoon when he was thirteen.
But that isn't Rin's fault, and Rin doesn't need any doubt to tie him down.
"Will you call?"
Rin freezes for a second. Then he turns around, hands wet and fingers white with soap bubbles.
"Yeah." He shakes his head, trying to get his hair off his face. "Leaving again will be weird," he admits.
Then stay, Haruka's most selfish part wants to say. But that's not what he really wants.
"Don't cry if you lose when you're back," he warns.
Rin smirks.
"I'm not going to lose." But his teasing tone dies down along with his smile. "Uh, I'm sorry about crying back then. I never thought you'd–"
"It's fine." It's not the first time Rin apologises for that, and Haruka hates it. He stands up and walks towards Rin. "I just don't want it to happen again."
Rin stares as Haruka takes his wet hands, an inexplicable blush spreading over his cheeks.
"It won't," he promises. "I'll call you and keep you updated." Haruka sighs, relieved. He remembers a younger version of the man in front of him assuring the same thing, but now Rin isn't just a dreamy child, but also a convinced adult. "Did you really want me to call?" Red bangs fall on Rin's face again, and he peeks at Haruka from behind them. "Back then, I mean."
"No." It's not that Haruka is embarrassed about missing Rin to the point of being hyperaware of the mail and the ringing of the phone (not as much as five years ago, anyway), but saying it out loud is more than what he can bear. "Not that much."
Rin leans forward, catching Haruka's lips with his.
"Then," he starts, "I'll call you so often you won't even have the time to miss me."