Isarin
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Summary
Isagi's love is a bit different, Rin likes it that way.
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saudade
(n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains"The morning after, questions find their answers, all pretense finally lost to the truth.
Series
- Part 2 of the dictionary of untranslatable love
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“Fuck off,” Rin growled, shoving past Isagi to yank open his locker. The metal clanged as he started tossing his gear inside, not caring if he was in the way. “I don’t need your crap right now.”
“I don’t think you know what you need,” Isagi shot back. He wasn’t moving. Still leaned up against Rin’s locker like he owned it, arms folded across his chest.
“Yeah? Then tell me, Oh Wise One,” Rin sneered.
Isagi just raised an eyebrow at him. “A damn therapy lesson.”
“Fuck you, Isagi. I don’t need therapy. I need to win.” Rin slammed his locker shut, turning to glare at Isagi head-on.
“Right. And you’re doing such a great job of it.” Isagi pushed off the locker, eyes mocking. “You’ve lost what, four of the last five matches? And the one you won was practically handed to you by an injury.”
Rin bared his teeth. “You want to talk about injuries? What was that shit you pulled last week? Playing with a busted ankle when you couldn’t even stand—”
“I won, didn’t I?”
“You got lucky.”
“Sure.” Isagi shrugged, unbothered. “Keep telling yourself that.”
OR
horny, aggressive rinsagi bicker and fuck -
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"Are you sure you want me to help? I mean," he pauses again, clearly taking his time to think about what he's going to say. "I'm not an alpha."
"I know that," Rin admits, a sigh pushing past his lips. "I don't want an alpha."
"Oh," Isagi says again quietly. "Then what do you want me to do?"
Rin's eye twitches. "Are you fucking stupid? What the hell do you think I want you to do?"