Work Text:
The empty Samezuka pool is eerie when it isn’t swarmed by two separate teams busy at practice and competition. By comparison, Iwatobi’s club is small while Samezuka is the powerhouse, dozens of swimmers crashing through the water, voices echoed up to the high ceiling. When both teams are gone, the pool has a vacant ghostly quality. Makoto shudders despite himself.
With Rin, Haru and the rest of Iwatobi gone on ahead, he’s fallen back. It’s unusual for Rin and Haru not to linger, but they’ve preoccupied themselves with an agreement to out-eat each other at a nearby restaurant. Or something.
Samezuka’s wide windows filter in the dying afternoon’s sun, pillars of orange and red light turning the still surface of the pool golden.
Then Sousuke jumps, disrupting that stillness into violent ripples, his long body a streak of darkness through the water.
He reaches the other end, turns in a powerful splash of motion, then comes back, hands cutting through that gold light.
When Sousuke surfaces, he waves Makoto over. “Don’t leave me to have all the fun.”
"Are you sure this is okay? Everyone else is gone already…"
"Why wouldn’t it be?" Sousuke flashes his best smirk, the kind that melts through Makoto’s chest and into his belly, destabilizing him. "I’m on Samezuka’s team too. I’ll take responsibility if we get caught."
"That makes me feel so much better."
"It’s not strictly against the rules, Tachibana.”
Makoto wants to argue that yes, it probably is, this is after hours and Samezuka is a place dictated by rules. It has to be, to maintain its considerably impressive reputation.
"Rin can back us up. Pretty useful since he’s captain," Sousuke says cheekily.
"I’m captain, too! It’ll look bad!"
"Shh, c’mon. Stop fussing." Sousuke lifts himself up onto the wall with upper body strength alone, pool water sluicing down his arms and back, outlining ridges of muscle. He’s still smirking in Makoto’s direction, blue eyes sharp and narrow. "You didn’t swim too much today."
"I wanted to make sure everyone else was keeping up, that’s all."
"You wanted to do well in front of Samezuka, you mean. You’re a considerate captain."
Makoto comes over, seating himself on the wall beside the other boy, feet dipping into the water. He hangs his head with a quiet laugh. “If you say so.”
"I do."
In the next moment, one of Sousuke’s strong arms is around his waist, guiding him into the water with a forceful tug. Makoto yelps but doesn’t struggle for fear of scraping the wall — they go in but not under, and Sousuke’s arm withdraws only to maneuver himself and pin Makoto back in place. There’s only a minimal amount of splashing, because Makoto lacks resistance and Sousuke is eerily efficient at taking control.
"Y-Yamazaki, ah — here?! This isn’t a good idea…"
"It’s the best idea I’ve had, Tachibana."
It’s really not, but he swallows his voice when Sousuke aligns their bodies in warm, slippery contact. Maybe because Sousuke swam a lap beforehand, but his skin isn’t cool against Makoto’s skin the way he expects from being submerged. He’s a burning contrast to the temperature of the water. Makoto swallows a second time, past the knot stuck in his throat.
"What, you don’t like it?" Sousuke says, his voice deepening, more methodical and strategic, stretching each word out its full length. "That someone might come in?"
"D-Doesn’t that worry you?" Makoto asks in a small voice, trying to stay steady. "It’s not that I don’t… like it, but…"
"But what?"
Sousuke rolls his hips, the movement dragging the front of their bodies together in sudden, slick friction. It drives a sound out of Makoto’s throat he regrets, if only because it echoes back in the wide open space around them. There’s little chance of staying quiet and discrete like this. His body is already alert and aware, the slow pulse of desire now in his gut, cock thickening to constrict his suit uncomfortably.
"But what, Tachibana?" Sousuke presses, like he’s trying to string the embarrassment out of Makoto through force of words alone. "You’re already getting hard. It feels that good, right?"
He grinds their stomachs together, the wet clinging chafe of the suit doing little to dampen it, and he can feel the hard outline of Sousuke’s cock against his thigh. He bites the inside of his cheek to smother another shivery, whimpering sound.
"See," Sousuke says under his breath, and a small splash signifies his hand dropping into the water, forming his palm against the bulge of Makoto’s suit. His thumb rubs a circle there, against the tip of his dick through tight fabric, fingers tucking underneath along the crease of his ass. "I’d say you like it a lot."
“Nnh, Y-Yamazaki—”
"It’s just Sousuke." His rubbing fingers are relentless, grinding his hips to pin the width of his palm against Makoto’s cock and trap it there, warm and overwhelming. "Don’t be so formal, Makoto."
As soon as Makoto’s legs begin to tremble and his mind wipes blank, Sousuke separates their bodies, cool eyes darker, the sun losing light from the windows. Everything is silver and blue now.
Sousuke bends down, hooks his arms underneath Makoto’s legs and lifts him physically onto the wall to sit, then pushes between them. His mouth is there in an instant, lapping at the wet stretch of fabric across Makoto’s cock. He follows the shape of it with his tongue, powerful hands digging into the muscle of Makoto’s thighs to keep him exactly there.
Makoto’s hands slap the concrete as he leans back, distributing his weight as if trying to escape, covering his mouth with another lowly strangled moan. His eyes are shut like he can’t even bear to look down at Sousuke still in the pool, nuzzling between his knees and licking at his dick through his swimsuit.
Tension builds through Makoto’s entire body like rope stretched too far, and he strains through those last few seconds of it before he comes in a hot, dizzying rush. Into his suit.
Even after that, as he tries to tame his shivering, he doesn’t look at Sousuke. His face is red and half-covered by one of his hands. Sousuke continues to lick despite that, flattening his tongue from top to bottom, across that wetter spot, smirk stretching his mouth apart.
"S-Stop now," Makoto squeezes out in a tight voice, trying to push Sousuke back with his foot on his shoulder, "it’s too sensitive—!"
"Mmm," Sousuke hums, then bites the inside of his thigh. "Bleh. Tastes like chlorine."
"What did you expect?!"
Sousuke pushes himself up onto the wall, water dripping everywhere, sticking to their skin as he nuzzles closer for a kiss. “My turn.”