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It's hard to find a purpose, once he knows. When Doctor Adachi tells him, with that sort of pitying empathy doctors have been trained in, that he's never going be able to swim competitively again, let alone internationally, Sousuke feels like he's been sucker-punched. He grits his teeth, clenches his fists on his knees, does everything to stop himself from trembling as he feels the brace on his shoulder like a dead weight, biting into his skin. Doctor Adachi allows him his time, finding some reason to tap at his computer until Sousuke has beaten back the waves of despair.
“You will be able to swim again, there's no stopping you there,” he says, and Sousuke's mind viciously wonders whether the good doctor actually thinks that is some sort of consolation, “but not yet. I'm very sorry, Sousuke-kun.”
Sousuke nods, curt, like he's a robot imitating human gestures. The doctor sees him out, accompanies him all the way to the lift.
“Keep up with the exercises and I'll see you next week,” he says. The lift arrives. “Oh, and Sousuke-kun?”
Sousuke looks up, fingers hovering over the newly-pressed ground floor button.
“Don't do anything you might regret.”
Sousuke swallows, nods, and the doors close.
He gets the train home, staring at the window in front of him, at the eyes of his own reflection. Superficially, he looks no different, but inside he can feel it, the steady, unstoppable rise of helplessness and hopelessness. He's so close to breaking he can almost feel the hairline cracks in his skin. He manages to wait until he's home and his bedroom door is shut behind him, and then, for once, Sousuke allows himself to let everything out.
He's never been one for crying, but all he can do is sob. His shoulder isn't even hurting, but everything is pure agony. And all he can think about apart from lost chances and his own stupidity is Rin. Rin, standing there, at the starting block, waiting for someone who's never going to be there. His promises have become hollow, they now feel like the dirtiest of lies. His thoughts chase each other, regret snapping at the heels of anger, sadness clashing with envy in a maelstrom of emotions he can't even rein in anymore.
He throws his desk chair against the wall, throws himself on his bed and stays there until it's run its course.
That's where his father finds him an hour later, cheeks pinched with dried tears, completely and utterly drained, Rin Rin Rin swirling lazily in the wineglass of his mind, the only thought he has any room for. How some people can constantly be this dramatic is beyond him, it's exhausting.
He realises his father is still at the door. Sousuke looks over, and sits up, shocked. The man's shoulders are shaking, his hand trembling on the doorknob.
Sousuke takes after his father: Yamazaki men are not talkative, or emotional. They've gone through their whole lives with companionable silences and claps on the shoulder, the extent of father-son affection. Sousuke's never seen his father cry, not even when his grandmother died.
“I should have stopped you,” he says, deep voice strained. “I've failed. As a parent.”
Sousuke's eyes widen. No, he thinks, no, it's me, I'm a terrible son, a fool, it's not your fault, it's all mine, and for the first time since he was small, he hugs his father, tight as he can. Strong carpenter's arms hold him close, the scent of sawdust and toil comforting and familiar and Sousuke hates himself.
How many more people is he going to make cry?
He spends long hours in his family's workshop that summer, working out his self-loathing with plane, lathe and rasp, the sound of the saws and hammers matching the cacophony inside. He's not very good at it because he's never really done it before, his parents insisting he focus on his chosen sport, but it's therapeutic. The banter with his uncle and cousins is good too, it works his muscles without straining them, and it's satisfying to actually be doing something. Not to mention far cheaper than counselling. His hands have never been rough and callused before. It's such a strange sensation, but a good one. Except for the splinters.
And just when he's managed to get his train of through back on the rails, just when it's tentatively starting out again, Rin appears, sending it spinning off into disaster.
“Going back to Australia, then?” Sousuke asks.
I should tell him.
Rin nods. They're sitting on Sousuke's back porch, nursing untouched Cokes, and Sousuke can feel himself slipping back down into the whirlpool of guilt and envy. And he doesn't want to envy Rin, because when he looks at Rin he sees something like fire, so beautiful and so deadly to him it's agonising. When Rin is away, he manages to ignore it, it lays dormant, but when Rin is there, bright and shining, it returns a hundredfold. He chased it once, the cliché moth to a flame, and his wings got burnt. It's the tight clench of pain in his chest, the thrill and flutter, the sheer need and potent desire. It's noticing Rin's quirks, the curls of the tips of his drying hair, the delicious points of his sharp teeth, the curve of his nose, the slim line of his wrist, the sliver of stomach when he moves and his shirt rides up.
He has known what this is for a long time. He knows that it is also a part of why his failure cuts so deeply and so painfully. With swimming Sousuke had the perfect excuse to stay at Rin's side. What does he have now?
“You'd better follow me,” Rin says, punching him lightly in the arm. He's made sure to sit on Sousuke's left, and there's a lump in Sousuke's throat. He squeezes the can in his hands, feels the cold seep through his fingers.
“Rin, I...”
The words are stuck, they taste like bile, clinging to the back of his throat.
“I want you to follow me,” Rin says, and it sounds... different. Sousuke looks at him, and then he can't look away.
Rin holds his gaze, blush making his cheeks the colour of a sunset, and there's something so deep and sincere in his eyes, something that goes miles beyond simple friendly rivalry. Something tells Sousuke that if it were Nanase here instead of him, Rin would not be looking at him like that.
Sousuke turns, placing his can down, looking right back. He swallows, but still can't say anything, wishing he could read Rin's mind. Rin reaches out, touches Sousuke's bad shoulder, and Sousuke forces himself not to flinch.
“It's not my place to tell you,” he murmurs, slow, as if every word has to be carefully constructed, “to give up. You can't give up. But... I need you to follow me, Sousuke. I don't care how.”
He moves forward, close, close enough that Sousuke feels he might combust from it. No moment he and Rin have shared before this has ever felt so intimate, and he feels suddenly stripped bare. Rin's forehead burns in the crook between neck and shoulder. Rin's fingers tug in the fabric of his t-shirt. Rin's other hand seeks his, their fingers touch, and Sousuke can barely breathe.
“I wish you were swimming beside me,” Rin says, and Sousuke can feel tears against his skin. He breathes deep, waits. “But I'm not leaving you behind if you can't. It doesn't matter to me. You matter to me.”
Sousuke lifts his hand, weaves his fingers into Rin's hair. He feels himself tremble, but more like he's watching it from a few feet away. Distance keeps him sane, when it feels like his world is being turned upside down again.
Rin is like a lantern on a long, dark road: he has no choice but to follow him, otherwise he'll be lost. And Sousuke is such a weary traveller. He presses his face to Rin's hair, breathing him in, the intoxicating scent of chlorine and Arctic ice. It's the scent he wants to fall asleep to, wake up to, the scent of both temptation and a future home. He loves it, but he's also terrified of it, terrified of being a burden. If he can't keep up with Rin, what's the point?
“I don't care how you're there,” Rin's voice shakes, “as long as you're there.”
Sousuke risks everything then. He presses a kiss to Rin's hair, hoping and praying it's the right thing to do and he isn't reading everything wrong. Rin lifts his head, allows Sousuke to wipe away his tears.
Privately, he wonders whether this is Rin's first kiss. He decides he doesn't care, because he shatters into it, the ache inside him breaking him, and he clutches Rin to him. His lips are desperate, his hold even more so, he trembles under Rin's touches to his hair, his shoulders, his back. The moment spins around them, the two of them in an instant that lasts forever, and when they pull back, Rin is crying again, but he's smiling as well. And Sousuke can feel himself smiling as well, a real smile, one he hasn't worn for weeks.
“I'll get there somehow,” he says. Rin nods, hasty, relieved, and kisses him again.
Getting there is easier said than done. Sousuke exhausts himself preparing for exams in half the time everyone else has had. He gets help from Tachibana (“Call me Makoto, everyone else does!” he says with that weird smile that makes Sousuke feel oddly at peace), he works long into the night until his head aches with everything he could conceivably need to know.
He ranks nationally, which surprises him, but at least, he muses bitterly, he can still excel academically. He's accepted into Exercise and Sport Science (coincidentally the same course as Tachibana) with almost open arms. But once he's there, he immediately begins discussing study abroad. Specifically, Australia. Even more specifically, the University of Sydney.
It might not be what he's always dreamt of, but he's fixing the pieces of something broken, which is far better than simply sweeping them up in a dustpan and throwing them away.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't envious whenever he and Rin Skype, but it's only one of the many feelings jostling for position within him. Yes, he's envious of the fact that Rin is swimming, competitively, beating records and winning races. But... Rin's life is strange and foreign, and Sousuke is starving to be a part of it. Rin talks about his roommates and his fellow swimmers and his lessons and how his English is getting better again, and Sousuke is happy about it. He sees Rin through the grain of the webcam, bleached of his true colours in the light of his laptop screen, in messy sweats, hair tied back, and Sousuke longs for him with a deep, profound ache. If he could reach through the screen, hold and kiss and have, he would in a heartbeat. The looks between them are different now, the silences sound different, the words taste different, now that he knows how Rin actually tastes.
Conversely, he himself does not have much to tell. He floats around with Tachibana's little clique (the one that thankfully manages to avoid including the fawning girls who understandably annoy Nanase), which mostly consists of the two of them and an ex-volleyball player called Sugawara, who might either be an angel akin to Tachibana or Satan himself, Sousuke isn't sure yet. Other than that, he studies. He needs a scholarship and he's not going to give up on it, not when he's so close. Rin is interested in everything he has to say, listens rapturously as if Sousuke is the best narrator of the greatest epic the world has ever known. It helps him understand that he's still wanted by Rin's side.
He doesn't know what he'd do if that wasn't the case anymore, but from the way Rin smiles at him from a thousand miles away, he knows it's not.
When Sousuke visits Rin for the first time, it's for the New Year. The airport security people make him feel decidedly unwelcome, and take his apple off him, which annoys him. He heads through the gate, disgruntled and weary, and then suddenly everything's brighter. Rin pulls him into a hug, heedless of everyone around him, and Sousuke pulls him close, leeching off his energy, taking in the scent and feel of him, shedding the miles and hours.
“You stink of aeroplane,” Rin complains, but there's laughter in his voice, vibrant and so welcome Sousuke feels it sink into his bones.
“Well, take me where I can get a shower, then,” Sousuke retorts, pulling back to really look at him. He takes a long moment to just stare, drink in the sight of him, his tanned skin and his soft hair and his fiery eyes and his sharp teeth and every little detail Sousuke's studied a thousand times and missed twice as much.
“I missed you,” he says, surprised when the words slip out so easily. Rin blinks rapidly, beaming, and before Sousuke can even understand he's reaching up to kiss him, hungry, pouring five months of separation into it.
There's nothing Sousuke can do but respond to it, lifting Rin up, shoulder be damned for just a moment, and revelling in the taste of him.
After a shower and a brief tour around the house Rin shares with two other students, Sousuke is allowed to sleep off some jetlag, but that's about it before Rin gets him up again.
“Come on, I have stuff to show you!” he says.
It's hot out. Rin told him to pack for the heat, but this is ridiculous. Rin wears a vest and it's distracting, with the smattering of freckles Sousuke wants to count and the tan line he wants to follow with his tongue. Rin's hair's tied back and that's distracting too, the temptation of the back of his neck something that calls right to Sousuke's libido. Good to know he's still a hot-blooded Japanese man, at least.
Rin shows him things, takes him to places he knows and loves, and treats Sousuke to the most delicious thing he's ever eaten at a tiny Vietnamese bakery. Rin calls them 'pork rolls', in English, and licks grease off his fingers in a way that Sousuke's half-sure is teasing.
“It's even better when you're drunk,” he admits, and suddenly Sousuke is confused.
“You're not twenty yet,” he says. Rin gives him the slyest shark grin he's ever seen, and it's the kind of look Sousuke definitely wants to keep all to himself.
“Drinking age is eighteen, here,” he replies, smug as anything. Sousuke tries to look stern, but instead he laughs.
“Is that part of your regimen?” he teases. Rin knees him in the calf.
“No, I'm integrating with the culture!” he protests, as they walk past Christmas trees in the sweltering heat.
They wind up at the beach near sunset, holidaymakers trickling away, leaving only the true Sydneysiders behind on the rose-tinted beach. Beyond that Sousuke can see the night sky easing over the horizon, but activity has not stopped. He leans on the railings and watches, Rin's arm pressed against his own, as a girl takes her surfboard and dives into the sea, her arms cutting powerfully through the water as she heads out.
The waves aren't great, but she rides them nonetheless, chasing what little adrenaline they offer, balancing lazily with an ease Sousuke almost envies. As he watches, ever more entranced by the grace and simplicity she shows, he clenches his fists.
Something is calling to him, something strangely enticing. It's no one thing, it's everything, the whole picture, the girl, the board and the sea, all beckoning him. It's a siren song, and its melody is freedom. You can't have what you always wanted, it whispers, but we can give you something just as good.
Rin's touches his hand, and his fist unclenches under the touch. “Want to try it?” he asks, and Sousuke wonders what his expression is. What kind of expression do you wear when you've had a revelation? He can't begin to imagine it.
He swallows, nods, glances at Rin because he can't bear to tear his eyes away for more than a moment, and the smile Rin's wearing is so affectionate and happy that Sousuke thinks he understands the need to weep over something beautiful. His head is full of puzzle pieces falling into place, and pipe-dreams of a future with Rin, a surfboard and the beckoning sea are the picture they make up.
He takes his second shower of the day (because damned if he doesn't need it, feeling grubby from the Australian summer sun and the natural grime of the city) and finds Rin on the couch, laptop open on his lap, smooth, bare legs crossed. Sousuke doesn't think he's ever wanted someone so much in his life. His hands tingle, he bites his lip to steady himself.
Rin turns to him, one eyebrow raised. “Are you just going to stare, or...?”
Sousuke is careful with the laptop, but that's about it. Rin welcomes him with open arms and that predatory grin from earlier, and Sousuke feels sparks under his skin.
He presses his lips to Rin's, tastes him, feels the points of his teeth as he presses his tongue against them. His right hand wanders as his left holds him up, spreading over the taut ridges of Rin's stomach, using his arm to drive Rin's vest up. He hums into the kiss when Rin's own hands go off on their own adventure, roughing through his hair, down his back, sneaking under the hem of his t-shirt.
Sousuke feels like he's floating, half-dreaming. He realises he most definitely isn't when Rin spreads his legs. Sousuke fits between them perfectly, and he has to pull away, slightly breathless, dizzy with want. Rin looks at him, lips wet and kiss-swollen, eyes half-lidded, face flushed.
“Don't stop now,” he says. The hot twist of arousal, steadily curling in Sousuke's belly, unfurls, unleashes something in him like a coiled spring now loosened. He seizes Rin's mouth in another kiss, rougher, hungrier, lunges down with his hips. Rin gasps around his tongue, arches up, hard, and Sousuke can feel his heat through their clothing. He wants more, he wants bare skin and tangled limbs and he wants to hear Rin moan his name in a way that no one can mistake for anything except obscene.
He pulls away for long enough to rid himself of his t-shirt, and Rin growls appreciatively, digging his fingers into Sousuke's muscles. Sousuke can feel the smirk spreading over his face, presses it to Rin's jaw, his throat, his collarbone, allows his teeth to join it. Rin's body undulates against his own, seeking more, and Sousuke's moves with it, instinct taking over as all Sousuke can remember to do is taste. He hikes Rin's vest up, baring his chest, lowers his head to suck on a nipple, and the moan he gets from that is just sinful.
They go from there, bodies coming together in desperation, hands not sure what they want except to touch. Sousuke can feel himself getting light-headed, lost in the taste-touch-sound of Rin around him, and the heat between them. It's like fire, the way he can feels Rin's hard cock against his as they thrust at each other, heedless of anything else, and he's overwhelmed by the need to touch. He shoves Rin's shorts down, grabs his cock, strips it twice and that's all Rin needs before he's arching into the touch, gasping out Sousuke's name, coming over his fingers.
It takes Sousuke a moment to realise what's happened. He's made Rin come, and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever done or seen. His face, coming down from the high, is a work of art. And Sousuke is malleable in his arms as Rin pulls him down to kiss him, makes a startled noise into Rin's mouth as Rin follows his earlier lead and wraps his hand around his aching cock.
For some reason, the idea of this being mutual had fled from his mind, but that is Rin's hand around his cock and the mere thought of it makes him thrust into Rin's grasp with a fierce, raw need he didn't think he could feel.
“That's it, come on, do it for me,” Rin hisses, filthily, and that's all Sousuke needs. When it comes to Rin, he could only ever obey. He stills, Rin's name falling from his lips with ease, trembling, coming harder than he ever has before. He's shaken to his very core. He can't hold his own weight anymore, too drained, entire self halfway to the ceiling and yet tightly contained within Rin's arms.
“You're heavy,” Rin complains, but he's nuzzling at the side of Sousuke's head so he probably doesn't mind all that much. Sousuke kisses his shoulder, sucks lazily at hot skin, his head spinning.
“We should probably move to the bedroom,” Rin says, almost conversationally. “Mitchell and David will kill me if they ever find out about this.”
Sousuke chuckles, a low rumble, and finally finds the strength to raise himself up. He looks down at Rin, their eyes holding the gaze. Rin nibbles at his lip with sharp teeth, cheeks flushed, hair a mess, a half-formed bruise on the tanned skin of his shoulder. God, Sousuke could stare forever.
“You're beautiful,” he murmurs before he can stop it, leaning down to capture Rin's lips again, his tongue slow. Rin hums, his fingers in Sousuke's hair. This is it, Sousuke thinks. He could probably die happy, now.
The rest of the weekend, before Rin's roommates get back, is spent on experimentation, in some sort of blissful bubble of tangled limbs, sweat-slick skin and bitten bruises. Neither is experienced, and it's a journey of discovery Sousuke never wants to end. He commits every detail to memory, the ways Rin whimpers when he takes two fingers (and when Sousuke does that for the first time, he feels as if he desecrating some hallowed ground, his hands trembling, uncertain. Rin snarls at him to stop dawdling, and that knocks him out of it), the twists and ripples of his muscles when he takes him from behind, the weight and texture of Rin's cock on his tongue, the sheer, glorious heat of being sheathed inside him like he belongs.
They're young and unused to it, and it shows, but neither cares when the outcome is so good. Sousuke loses count of the orgasms after a while, so completely storm-tossed by it, by Rin, drunk from it all. Practice makes perfect.
The only break is Sunday afternoon, when Rin tells him to dress smart, because they're going visiting. He'd be resentful if he wasn't curious. He tries to remember whether he actually has something smart to wear.
Shorts and a polo shirt later, and they're heading into Australian suburbia, with its eucalyptus trees and odd bird sounds. Sousuke takes a moment to truly look around and appreciate how different it is to everything he's experienced before. The cars drive on the opposite side of the road, the streets have names, everywhere he turns it's English, and he's seen more people of different colours and cultures in the last three days than he'd seen in eighteen years before.
And Rin is holding his hand.
As if it doesn't matter they're both men. As if nothing matters except the fact they're together. Are there places even more open than this, where they can kiss in public and talk openly about their affection for each other without fear of shuttered coldness and passive-aggressive “whatever makes you happy”s?
Rin turns to him, grinning. “How's it been so far?”
Sousuke lets out a breath. “Intense.” There's no other word for it. Rin bumps their shoulders together.
“Is your English feeling up to it, today?”
Sousuke steels himself. He's taking classes, he's not bad, but... he wasn't exactly International Baccalaureate material in high school either. Ok, he sucked. But he's been trying and he's done his best to get on a conversation-holding level. He can make a bit of small talk.
“I can... get by,” he admits stiffly. Rin laughs.
“Don't worry, you'll do way better than Haru, that's for sure.”
Sousuke can't help the twitch when he hears Nanase's name, he can't help the sudden chill, as if he's stepped in a shadow. Nanase got here before him. Nanase met Rin's homestay parents before he did. Jealousy is an ugly sentiment, so he keeps it to himself, but Nanase is always there, hovering on the edge of his existence and it irritates him. And the worst thing is that when it's not Rin mentioning him, he doesn't feel this way. When Tachibana talks about him (and Tachibana is always talking about him, Tachibana is so in love it's ridiculous), it's just Nanase. When Rin talks about him... it's...
“We're here!” Rin says cheerfully, dragging him down a small path to a house that looks modern in a lumpy sort of way. Sousuke isn't sure if he likes it, but then again, he's always preferred the traditional.
Rin doesn't bother ringing the doorbell. He takes Sousuke right round the side of the house to a large green lawn. There are two people, a table beneath a gazebo and a barbecue.
“G'day!” Rin offers, waving. A little black dog barks happily and galumphs over, waggling its chunky behind along with its tail. Rin immediately bends to coo over it, and Sousuke suddenly feels painfully exposed, like a deer who's stepped out of the undergrowth.
“Rin!” exclaims a blonde woman – has to be Lori – hugs Rin and then looks at Sousuke. Up and down, like she's evaluating him. It makes Sousuke even more unsettled. “Oh, that's him, then?” she says. Rin beams at her and nods.
Lori shakes his hand. “It's wonderful to meet you!” She talks slowly, and he imagines that might be Nanase's fault. “I'm Lori.”
Sousuke blows out a quick, sharp breath. Now or never. “I'm very pleased to meet you,” he says, in his best English. His accent's appalling and he knows it. “I'm Sousuke.”
Lori tries his name for size, it becomes Soskay. It sounds strange, but it's as good as he supposes he'll get. After introductions to Russell, he somehow ends up with a stack of plates.
“Would you mind setting the table, please, love?” Lori says, and Sousuke can't exactly say no to a woman that's smiling at him like that. Rin, from his vantage point near the barbecue with Russell, seems to find Sousuke's new job incredibly amusing.
“How'd'you like your steak, Sousuke?” Russell asks. Sousuke doesn't know how to answer, mainly because he isn't sure what 'steak' means.
With Rin interpreting what he doesn't understand and his own sort-of functional English, they manage to make something that could be construed as conversation. They ask him the usual questions like what he wants to do with his life and what he's studying and how is Tokyo, Sousuke can answer those well enough.
“So, Sousuke... got a girlfriend back in Japan?” Russell asks with a good-natured chuckle. Sousuke's brows draw down in a frown, slightly confused. He looks at Rin. Rin's blushing, which, ok, is adorable, but also worrying.
“You didn't tell them?” he says.
“I was... waiting for you to be here, to be honest,” Rin admits. He takes a deep breath and looks right across the table, his gaze never wavering. He looks determined, and Sousuke hides a smile with his hand, because determination is a look that makes Rin very attractive. “Er, Russell, Lori... I have something to tell you both.”
They both give him encouraging smiles.
“Sousuke is my, uh, my... boyfriend.” Rin's hand is suddenly in his hand and Sousuke wasn't expecting that, but he'll take it. He squeezes, gently, offering what support he can.
“Oh, that's lovely!” Lori says cheerfully. “You take good care of him now, Sousuke,” she adds with a wink that seems to be both supportive and promising bodily harm if Rin gets his feelings hurt. Rin's brow smooths out, his entire body seems to deflate in sheer relief. Sousuke can see the pinpricks of tears in the corners of his eyes. Their opinion means so much to him. Sousuke strokes his hand with his thumb, and he doesn't notice the smile spreading across his features. He also doesn't notice the look Lori and Russell exchange.
Russell takes a drag of his beer. “How long have you been... you know.”
“Nearly six months,” Rin says, and he launches into an explanation of which Sousuke only understands one word every ten. It's quite animated, and has both Russell and Lori laughing. He knows perfectly well it's probably at his own expense, but it doesn't matter. It's worth it to see Rin so full of joy.
That night, Sousuke watches Rin sleep, listens to the steady rhythm of his breathing, drinks in the fan of his lashes on his cheek and the way his hair whisps across his face, and Sousuke's chest feels like it might burst.
Monday brings with it the return of Rin's roommates (Mitchell and David, cricketers, both on sports scholarships), and new trials of Sousuke's meagre English.
New Year's Eve is spent with them and some of their friends, on the beach. There's a barbecue set up, a few girls have sparklers. Everyone is friendly, there's more beer than Sousuke believes so few people can drink (he is very much mistaken, of course). The sea is close, a calm, dark counterpoint to the light and noise of the various beach parties and music, and Sousuke hovers, on the edge.
He's always lived by the sea, but he's never felt it call before.
He notices a girl, on her own, sitting on the rocks, and he realises it's the surfer girl from the other day. He's never been shy, so walking up to her isn't a problem, but he's never been much of an extrovert either, so striking up a conversation, especially with somewhat of a language barrier, is a greater challenge than he would have thought.
“Er... hello,” he says, clearing his throat. The girl turns to squint at him suspiciously. Her skin is golden from the light of the bonfires on the beach, but much darker than his own, and her hair is a mess of tight curls.
“What do you want?” she demands. Sousuke almost flinches at her curt tone, but soldiers on anyway.
“I saw you surfing... last week. I wanted to...” He struggles for a moment. “Ask you about it.”
The girl gives him an incredulous look. She's extremely expressive. “About surfing?”
Sousuke nods. She laughs, it's loud and obnoxious and infectious enough that Sousuke finds himself smiling.
“Right. So you're not trying to crack on me?”
“I don't know what that means,” he says, honestly.
“Doesn't mean you can't do it,” she says bluntly. He notices she's slowed her speech down a little, perhaps to help him understand better. “You're not from around here, are you?”
“No, I'm visiting.” He points behind him to where the small gaggle of people Rin knows are enjoying the party. He falters, wondering whether he can get his voice to say it. Back in Japan Rin would be a friend, a childhood friend, a former classmate. Here, though... “My boyfriend,” he elaborates, feeling oddly proud of himself. The girl almost visibly deflates, sighing with relief.
“That's nice,” she says, her smile bigger, all of a sudden. “My name's Isobel, but everyone calls me Izzie.”
She holds out her hand, and Sousuke shakes it.
“Sousuke,” he replies.
“You wanted to know more about surfing?” she continues, taking a sip of her beer.
“Yes. I... want to surf.” He clenches his fist, feeling a sudden, uncontrollable surge of need. This is it, the discovery of a purpose beyond just following Rin to the ends of the Earth. He didn't know he needed it, but the reality of it is powerful and he cannot fight it.
She beams at him, as if it should be everyone's life goal. “Don't worry, mate, I know everything about surfing,” she says.
He ends up with her Skype contact, which seems a rather personal thing to just give out like that, Sousuke would have preferred an email address, but it's enough. Then Rin appears, glorious in the firelight, like some sort of deity Sousuke feels unworthy of. He's flushed from alcohol, smiling like Sousuke has the answers to everything, and he drags Sousuke away with a nod of his head to Izzie, whose laughter follows them until it's covered by noise and the sound of the fire.
“It's almost midnight,” Rin says, pulling Sousuke closer, licking his teeth like he does when he wants something only Sousuke can give.
“Let me guess, you want to kiss at midnight,” Sousuke rumbles, hand finding its place at Rin's waist. It's just like Rin, predictably romantic, but perhaps because it is Rin that to Sousuke it feels deliciously fresh and new and precious.
“You guessed it,” Rin murmurs back. Their faces are close, and normally Sousuke would care about all the people around them, but he can't, not when Rin is so near, warm and solid and everything he desires.
“TEN!” the yell comes up from the rest of the beach, the countdown beginning.
“NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX!”
“I love you,” Rin murmurs. Sousuke's breath hitches, his heart quickens. He doesn't think he'll ever be over how Rin makes him feel.
“FIVE! FOUR!”
“I love you too,” he replies, and he realises this is the first time he's said this. The first time he's uttered these words he feels like he's felt since he first met Rin, so many years ago. Rin's smile is sunshine, the tears in the corners of his eyes are stars.
“THREE! TWO! ONE!”
Rin pulls their lips together, still smiling. Sousuke's heart bursts to the sound of fireworks and “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”, no separation between the two of them in their own small, perfect world, and he feels whole again.
Whereas Rin had been the only one there to greet him, there are four people seeing him off (technically there should have been five, but Mitchell's hangover has basically turned him into a vampire with a migraine): Russell and Lori have decided that he is already their son-in-law, apparently, and David has named him honorary second-in-command beer runner. Rin's valiantly trying to suppress his urge to cry, but it isn't working very well.
Sousuke never expected to make friends in such a short time. Lori hugs him, Russell gives him a strapping slap on the back and David gives him an odd half-embrace. Unused to physical affection Sousuke merely nods, slightly red.
They then retreat, and leave Sousuke alone with Rin.
“Oi, don't cry,” Sousuke murmurs.
“I'm not crying!” Rin says stubbornly, rubbing at his eyes viciously. Sousuke chuckles.
“I'll be back soon,” he promises.
“You'd better be,” Rin tries to growl, but there's a hitch in his voice, a hairline crack that Sousuke can see right through. Sousuke tugs him close, breathes in the scent of him, closes his eyes so all he can feel is Rin's breathing and the weight of his body next to Sousuke's.
It's Rin that pulls back first, but only so he can pull Sousuke into a kiss and press their foreheads together.
“I love you,” Rin murmurs. Sousuke smiles.
“I love you too,” he replies, more confident now with those four words.
His gate number registers on the edge of his hearing. He has to go. It's physically painfully to let Rin go, like a part of him is being torn away, leaving a bloody, open wound. He squeezes Rin's hand one last time and then leaves, waving goodbye one he's past the gate.
Rin waves back, gets a tissue from a chuckling Lori, and then Sousuke rounds a corner.
His heart is so heavy he wonder how the plane can take off. And now, he must wait.
Doctor Mitamura looks pleased. Sousuke tenses, hardly daring to hope.
“Good news, Yamazaki-kun!” she says. “You can swim again.”
Sousuke slumps in his chair and lets out a sigh of immense relief. He feels light-headed, almost, like he's floating somewhere around ceiling height. He might not reach Nanase levels of sheer obsession, but he's missed it. He's missed everything about swimming: the scent of the chlorine, the drag, the way he feels a hundred times lighter, and everything is so quiet, so pure...
“Do not, however, over-exert yourself,” Doctor Mitamura warns. “You can swim, but definitely not competitively. Take it easy at first.”
“I will, Doctor,” Sousuke says, keeping his voice steady even as his fingers drum impatiently on his knee.
“I hope so,” Doctor Mitamura says suspiciously. “Anyway, you've done remarkably well, lately. Good work.”
Sousuke blinks. He's unused to such sincere praise lately. A small, embarrassed smile tugs at his lips and he bows gratefully.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” he says. Doctor Mitamura chuckles.
“You're a good boy, Yamazaki-kun,” she says, patting him on his good shoulder.
It takes Sousuke what he thinks is record time to go from his apartment to the swimming pool. He stands there, breathing in the sweet-sting of chlorine, admiring how the uncharacteristic February sun is shimmering in patches on the azure water. A middle school student is practising in the farthest lane, and two older women are taking a rest in the shallow end. It's a public pool on a weekday, so it's quiet, and it's nothing special, but to Sousuke... it's like the Promised Land.
He scrubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand. God, is he turning into Rin?
He thinks of his cell phone back in the locker room, and with a thudding heart he wonders what he's going to say. It can wait, though. It has to wait.
He circles the pool to the starting blocks, bare feet tapping a familiar music, head filled with too many thoughts, deafening. Butterfly would be too strenuous, he muses, falling into familiar stretching routines. The water beckons, but he'd be stupid to just jump in.
Finally, he steps onto the starting block. He pulls his goggles down, and, with a self-deprecating chuckle, he snaps the back, just like Rin would, like a good luck charm. The pool lies before him, bejewelled and celestial, another plane of existence, the lines of the tiles shimmering underneath the water, the lane dividers bobbing serenely. He bends, takes a deep breath, dreams up an imaginary starting whistle.
Cutting into the water is truly like coming home. It's cool on his skin, it presses against his nostrils, caresses him, welcomes him back. He slows himself down, though the temptation to go faster is there, and gives himself into a calm freestyle.
Briefly, he remembers how it was when he tried too hard. The pool had simply become a means to an end, it had lost all its beauty and magic. But now, as he takes the lane slow and just lets himself enjoy the feeling, he remembers what it was like, how it's supposed to be. He remembers the glorious sensation of weightlessness and wonder, the effortless effort it took, the harmony and peace. He knows exactly how Nanase feels now, he knows what Rin needed to remind himself of.
He slaps a hand on the wall of the deep end, treads water, and lets a huge grin spread over his face. He's never felt as alive as right now.
Sousuke, 17:34
Guess who just swam?
Rin, 17:36
WHAT
Rin, 17:36
NO WAY
Sousuke, 17:37
Yes way
Rin, 17:38
FANTASTIC
Rin, 17:39
When you get back here were swimming every day
Sousuke, 17:41
I definitely look forward to it
Sousuke grins at his phone, he can't help it. His hair is still damp (he barely dried it, to keep the poolwater smell on his as long as possible), and he's pleasantly tired in a way the gym never managed. That's when he remembers he should be meeting Tachibana and the rest for dinner. He owes them an answer from the doctor, since they've all been interested in it. Even Nanase.
He sometimes wonders why they care, and how they consider him a friend. He's never had many of those, and he occasionally feels he doesn't exactly deserve them: he's not the easiest person to get along with, he's not talkative, he can be intimidating. But Tachibana is a friend to every living creature, Sugawara is just fun and even Nanase has his moments, which is what Sousuke finds the strangest since he never expected to view Nanase as anything but a rival for Rin's affections (he should have known, though, that he never needed to worry, not since Tachibana is a person who exists).
He's never had many friends. But as he walks into the bar, and Sugawara cheerfully waves, he wonders how he ended up with so many. Privately he thinks, as he is introduced to Sugawara's boyfriend, a volleyball player named Sawamura, that he doesn't mind in the slightest.
He sees the email before Professor Shimada gets to talk to him. He's ebullient, but also terrified.
“Congratulations, Yamazaki-kun!” Professor Shimada says, shaking his hand. “Though, to be frank, with the standard of work you've been submitting and your previous high school grades, they'd be fools not to accept you.”
Sousuke allows himself a small smile. “Thank you, Professor.”
“Though I have to ask, because we're going to be losing a valuable student... why Sydney?”
Why Sydney? Why indeed. The first thing that comes to mind is obviously the most important: sharp-toothed smiles and red hair, a cutting wake through water. Sousuke would go to the ends of the Earth for Rin, and back again. But something else steps shyly to the forefront, something newer and less fully-formed than devotion. It's something that gives him a hopeful thrill, a sudden rush of understanding. It's crashing waves and a board and the peach-hued sunset at his back.
His smile broadens slightly.
“The surfing's good,” he replies.
There's a small crowd waiting to see him off. It's surprising, and a bit... embarrassing, truth be told. Gou's gotten everyone to sign a card. Nitori is crying, and so is his mother. His father is made nervous by the sheer amount of people, like he wasn't aware his son was liked (though, to be fair, Sousuke wasn't aware of it himself until just now). It's the most ridiculous scene in the world.
“I won't be gone forever,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. That just seems to make Nitori wail even louder, and both Tachibana and Sugawara are digging for tissues in their bags, like a pair of mother hens. His mother, to his surprise, hugs him, his father pats him on the shoulder, there's a lot of well-wishing and intimations to Skype, under pain of torture.
As he turns to leave, he locks eyes with Nanase, without even meaning to. Nanase gives him a nod and, to his eternal shock, a small, encouraging smile. He nods back, bids everyone a last farewell, and heads towards something new.
The sun dips ever lower behind him, the shadows growing longer and the chill starting to grow. The days are getting warmer, but Sousuke still has to wear his wetsuit, just to stave off the nip of the last days when winter is reluctant to leave for good. The water is calm, his legs float gently, waves lapping softly at his board.
It's taken a little while to get this confident, but Sousuke's never done things halfway, and surfing is no exception – Izzie even said she was surprised he'd picked it up so fast at his age. His English is so much better, his conversations stronger (his accent is still a lost cause), and his alcohol tolerance has improved greatly. It was frightening, at first, trying to exist in this alien landscape with Rin as his only anchor, but now... it's not home, but it's a place he likes to live.
He still needs a map to get around campus, though.
“Hey!”
Sousuke turns, breaks into a lazy smile, and returns the wave before heading back to the beach. Once there, heedless of still being soaking wet or anyone else that might be on the shore, he slides an arm around Rin's waist and pulls him into a kiss.
“Yuck, you taste of seawater!” Rin complains, pushing him away with a laugh.
“I'm becoming pickled in brine,” Sousuke says, somewhat proudly. When he's not at uni or studying, he's here, in the ocean, rediscovering what he loves most in an entirely novel way. Well... what he loves second-best, maybe. What he loves most is looking thoroughly unamused, with his university swim team hoodie and his arms folded across his chest.
“Come on, Ariel, let's go eat,” Rin says, relenting his unimpressed facade for a wide, sharp grin. Sousuke nods, board under one arm and Rin under the other, and they make their way back up the beach.
“You brought food?” Sousuke asks, grabbing his towel and scrubbing at his hair before peeling off half his steamer. He doesn't miss how Rin allows his gaze to linger, following the lines of his body almost tangibly. He smirks to himself as he wraps the towel around his waist and strips off the rest of the clingy neoprene, replacing it with his boxers and tracksuit bottoms.
“I did bring food,” Rin says. He makes no move to show it, however, still intent on watching unashamedly as Sousuke pulls a t-shirt over his head. After that, he pouts a little, disappointed that what he considers a show is over so quickly. It does wonders for Sousuke's self-esteem.
“Save it for later,” Sousuke mumbles, shaking his head. “Show me the food.”
Rin picks up a plastic bag and presents him with a large parcel of sorts. It's very warm, and the smell is good, even though it's food Sousuke only started really eating a few months ago. Even now, though, Sousuke still wonders at the different between fried fish at home, and fried fish here.
“I feel bad for your regimen, but today is cheat day,” Rin says. Sousuke snorts.
“Whatever you say, dear,” he says, getting kneed in the leg for his trouble. They sit together, lasts rays of sun warming their backs, the fish and chips burning their fingers, shoulders pressed together. Rin does most of the talking, discussing his lecture and his consistent irritation with this one other guy on his team who's just annoying.
“No relays, then?” Sousuke asked, licking salt and vinegar off his fingers. Rin huffs.
“Maybe one day?” he wonders. “I don't think... to be honest, I think I've done all the relays I needed, with all the people I needed to.”
His head pillows on Sousuke's shoulder. Sousuke presses his cheek to Rin's hair. He first noticed the contrast between chlorine and salt many months ago, and it was painful, a reminder of how they inhabited two different worlds. Now, though, he does not dwell on it, knowing they merely inhabit two different ends of a spectrum. His fingers are sticky, but Rin doesn't seem to mind as he laces their hands together, watching the waves lap at the beach, the wind gentle, the sky strewn with clouds.
His heart is quiet, and beats in time with Rin's, their pulses pressed together at their wrists. The storm inside has calmed.