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Language:
English
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Published:
2014-12-27
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765
Chapters:
1/1
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24
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2
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329

if he is the ocean, then let me be a harbor

Summary:

Always the shore waits patiently for the sea to return, even if the waves take a part of it when they collide.

Notes:

this is a collection of three-sentence fics written for MakoRin Week, cross-posted from tumblr. i've arranged them so that they can be read as a whole or as separate, unconnected moments.

Work Text:

Touch

Makoto’s years of swimming had given him a lung capacity that would put any Olympian to shame, something he was rather proud of. He could sprint a mile and still have enough air in his lungs to sing a light tune to his younger siblings without the slightest pant. How odd, then, that just the sight of a certain red-haired individual – the sight alone, not to mention his touch on Makoto’s hand, his waist, his lips on his neck, his shark-like teeth nibbling gently at the tender skin there – left him gasping like a fish out of water.

Warmth

Rin, a boy whose temper was often compared to fire, was no stranger to heat; he had spent his life under the unforgiving sun, learned to coexist with the heat of exertion in muscles, melted and molded by the fires of competition. Yet as he lay in Makoto’s arms, feeling the taller boy’s sleep-soaked breaths against the top of his head, Rin was filled to the brim with a new sensation. It spread through his veins and pooled in his stomach, causing his skin to flush and his lips to turn up in a smile; Makoto was warmth, and Rin was content to bask in it.

Horror

He should have felt bad for dragging his boyfriend to a horror film for their date night – it was common knowledge that Makoto was a scaredy-cat, and Rin believed in putting the taller man’s comfort above all else. And, to his credit, Rin did feel the familiar sour pangs of guilt in his chest for a short while as Makoto whimpered into his shoulder (the movie’s opening credits had hardly started, how could he be frightened already?!). Still, the red-haired swimmer could hardly suppress a smirk as Makoto gripped his arm and practically sat on his lap to assuage his fear, and Rin made a mental note to check up on the times for all the other upcoming scary movies that season.

Firsts

“U-um, maybe we shouldn’t…”

Rin paused and looked up at Makoto with a frown on his face; as uncomfortable as it was with his knees against the hard tile of Samezuka’s locker room, he had to admit he was really enjoying this new angle, his head comfortably warm between Makoto’s thighs.

“What, don’t tell me this is your first blowjob?” Rin said, a light mocking tone coloring his words. Makoto flushed, and was about to snap back that no, it’s not my first time, I just don’t want your teeth anywhere near my dick, but Rin had begun to suck lightly on the skin of his thigh again and suddenly it was hard to breathe, let alone speak.

Lies

Honesty came to Makoto as easy as breathing; it was his mother tongue. He was uncomfortable with even the slightest white lie, finding the taste of any deception sitting too bitter on his tongue to bear. Still, he managed to choke down the vile tang as he breathed the words I’m fine into his phone in response to Rin’s carefully-worded question; Makoto could handle a small lie, after all, as long as it meant sparing his ex-boyfriend any guilt.

 Danger

The weather forecasters and the grimy fishermen on the old docks had been clear in their warnings not to go out into the waves that day, their words raised above the deafening thunder that called down from the pewter-gray skies. In their warnings, however, Rin heard only a challenge, and Rin loved a challenge and Makoto loved Rin and so off they ran into the roiling seas, their mouths and nostrils and eyes stinging with salt. It was only a few minutes later that the sea spit them back out, and Rin found salt oozing out of his eyes and rolling down his cheeks to land on Makoto’s cold face, and the skies began to weep because they could not stop these boys from swimming right into the wet maw of the ever-ravenous depths.

Music

Makoto opens his eyes again and the way the ruby light of the dying day hits them make them glisten like emeralds (suddenly, emeralds are Rin’s favorite gemstone). The taller boy smiles as he meets Rin’s watery gaze, stealing all the air from the redhead’s lungs. “Hey,” is all Makoto says, but Rin swears his voice is music, and for the love of God he never wants to hear any other song as there is no symphony that can surpass the sound of Makoto’s honeyed tones against his skin as he pulls the taller boy in for a long overdue embrace.