Work Text:
Rin brings the cigarette to his lips, one hand sliding down to fetch the lighter in his pocket.
The night is still, the glow from the moon unmoving and familiar–acting like a spotlight so Rin can fumble for the lighter hidden in the depths of his jeans. He’s standing on his parent’s balcony, staring at the street below. It’s summer, a humid, sweaty night. Rin can feel the sweat beading and rolling down his chest under his shirt, to his thighs under his pants. He shifts uncomfortably, trying to focus his attention onto the tobacco between his teeth.
There’s kids playing in the streets, parents lighting up sparklers to hand out to the children who run up and down the road, making words and symbols in the air that burn into their eyes. Rin lights up his cigarette in tandem with the parents, and with every glowing line painted in the air Rin exhales. The smoke clouds his vision, covering the kids and leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Rin knows that this is bad– that this is really bad.
He’s an athlete, he’s a child, he’s an idiot for having such a bad habit.
He knows, and yet he pulls it away from his mouth, holding the cigarette between two fingers– just looking at the iconic dual colours.
Rin plays soccer, he stands on the field commanding everyone to look at him in awe, to respect him, to love him. He’s been a prodigy since birth, since his brother–
Rin’s fingers start to shake.
It’s a bad habit, yes, but he would never let it affect his career. He promised himself that the second his breathing becomes shallower, his chest becomes tighter and his teeth become yellower he’ll be done. He promises.
None of his teammates know– could he even tell them? How does one bring it up in casual conversation?
“Yes, I smoke underage; Yes, I’m depressed.” Disgusting, intimate behaviour like that makes him sick.
As Rin brings up a hand to wave the smoke away, he sees his brother’s boyfriend’s car enter the front yard. His eye twitches.
Sae.
He’s still dressed in his team’s uniform as he steps out the car, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder as he walks around the driver’s side. Leaning against the open window and talking to his boyfriend, Ryusei.
Seeing Ryusei’s head pop out of the open window makes Rin’s whole body jerk with disdain. He scoffs, putting out his cigarette on the handle of the balcony. He turns away, not sparing another glance as he walks inside the house, crunching up the now put out cigarette in his hand–not caring for the slight burn–and dropping it into the bin.
He cannot believe that Sae decided to come back here– he can't believe he’s confident enough to show his face around Rin, after everything he said.
As he leaves the main room, he flicks the light off, grumbling to himself before shutting himself into his bedroom.
Outside, through the balcony window the light turning off catches Sae’s attention, he looks up. The remnants of smoke still linger in the air. Sae’s eyes narrow.
—
The next morning Rin wakes up as per usual– most days he wished he didn’t.
He just lays in bed, looking over to where his phone lays while charging on his bedside table. He sits up, tapping the screen on his phone to reveal the time.
5:00am.
Rin sighs.
He swings his legs over the side of the bed, all limbs and lanky as he stands up. He stretches his arms in front of himself hard enough to feel a pop in his shoulders. Walking over to the closet he rummages through his clothes for his gym clothes.
Unceremoniously, he shrugs his clothes off, pulling his shirt over his head and shaking his sleep pants off. He leaves them on the floor, undisciplined in the way he kicks them into the corner of his room where the rest of the clothes he wore are. Rin runs a hand through his hair as he looks down at the pile, before pausing. He brings his hand down to look at it, feeling the residue left on it from the grease in his hair.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. That’s a problem for later he decides.
Rin quickly grabs his phone from where it’s charging and his earphones, pocketing them as he walks out of his room.
As he passes his parents' room to descend the stairs he realises that it’s a peek open. He pauses, and he takes a step back, looking through the peek to see his mother lying by herself in the bed. His father was nowhere to be seen.
He scoffs to himself.
He goes down the stairs, trying not to think about it too hard, until he finds where his father is. He’s sitting at the dining table, eating some toast with one hand and using his other hand to read the newspaper, his finger gliding down each line so his eyes could follow.
He looks up at the sound of footsteps, and Rin and his father just stare at each other. The silence stretches between them until it draws so tight it starts to become awkward.
His father speaks first.
“Sae got me this on his run this morning,” he starts.
Rin lets out an audible ‘tch’at Sae’s name ‘of course he would, that showoff,’ but otherwise he keeps quiet.
He continues on, “Come, have some breakfast before you leave.” He beckons Rin closer, his hand rising from the paper, making a gesture with his hand.
Rin stays still, his gaze slowly drifting down to the toast in his father’s hand, and then back up to his face. His green hair slicked back so differently to Rin’s.
He shakes his head, and he mumbles. “‘m not hungry.” His father pauses, and he sighs, his tone becoming rougher as he says, “I don’t know why I bother with you.”
Rin feels his shoulders tense, his posture straightening with the need to defend, to lash out, to do something in retaliation.
He doesn't.
Rin continues to walk to the front door, not stopping his pace until he reaches the entry way. He grabs his shoes and forces his feet into the soles, not bothering with the laces until he pushes past the front door, slamming it shut behind himself.
He’s mad, he’s so mad.
If he had to choose who to hate more, Sae or his father– They’d be tied.
Rin storms down the street, his pace quickening more and more until he starts to run. The early morning breeze from the beach whipping against his face. His feet hitting the pavement with a muted thump.
It’s his father, his father made him this way.
He remembers that day so clearly.
It was a few months after Sae left to join that fucking soccer team.
Rin’s father was sitting on the sofa, long after dark. His mother was holed up in their room, spending the late night by herself.
Rin was in his room, eyes wide as he stared up at the ceiling, and the fractured light of the moon shining through the trees outside. He was mesmerised by the patterns, the different shapes connecting and parting with each sway of the branches.
From under the door, a stench, heavy and gross, started to fill the room. Rin's body jerked in response, sitting up straight. His hands came up to his nose almost instantly, as if hiding himself from the intruding smell.
He swings his legs off of the side of the bed. Standing up on meek feet, he walks over to his bedroom door. Before opening it he presses an ear to the wood. He hears nothing. He stays still for a few more seconds before cautiously turning the door handle and stepping out.
In the hallway the smell becomes stronger. Rin walks to the stairs and peers down, he sees smoke, heavy and foggy, fill up the entirety of downstairs.
His heart stops.
He rushes down the stairs, expecting danger, a fire, just something that would explain what’s going on. All he sees is his father, leaning back on the sofa with a cigarette between his fingers.
Rin pauses, his mouth half open to say something but in the middle of deciding against it. He breathes in, the smoke makes him gag.
His father looks behind himself at Rin, he doesn't say anything, he just pats the cushion next to him; an offer.
Rin takes it.
He sits on the sofa next to his father, who just brings the cigarette up to his lips. They sit in silence for a while, his father continuing to take hits. Until he speaks,
“You miss Sae?” He asks, the cigarette dangling between his lips.
Rin blinks once, his eyes watering– from the question or from the smoke, he still doesn't know.
“Yeah, I do,” Rin says back, his voice soft, looking down at his lap and playing with loose threads of his pyjamas.
His father lets out a gruff hum, “Mhm, I do too.” Each time he talks, a sprinkle of tobacco spills from the edge of the cigarette, Rin’s eyes are trained on it.
Silence expands. It grows bigger and bigger until it squeezes in Rin’s chest like it’s about to burst.
Rin remembers just looking at the TV in front of him, and the chairs around. Distantly thinking about the time when the living room was full and the TV was playing a game of soccer. The TV is off, but it’s still full– just of smoke.
“You know what I do when I miss someone?”
Rin looks up at his dad.
His father nods his head over to the coffee table in front of him, gesturing to the empty green bottle that sits on the edge.
“And if it’s not that, then it’s this,” He holds onto the cigarette, looking at it between his fingers. He stays in place for a moment, as if deep in thought, before he brings it up to Rin’s lips and he asks, “Do you miss him?”
Rin’s heart races, fear hidden in his body suddenly rushing to his stomach. He blinks a few times, wanting to look away, but his eyes stay stuck to the white and brown. He leans forward, and then he closes his lips around the edge. He sucks a deep breath in– and he sputters smoke back up. Flinching away from his dad as he tries to catch his breath.
His father laughs to himself, pulling the cigarette away and storing it into the corner of his mouth. “That’s an answer in itself,” He says, before ruffling Rin’s hair, pushing his bangs back to see his face fully.
Then, angry footsteps descend the stairs, and it’s Rin’s mother, rushing to his side and pulling him up from where he’s sitting.
“What are you doing?!” She hisses at her husband, dragging Rin to the end of the stairs. “Go up. Now!” She yells at Rin, pushing him up a few steps before walking back over to Rin’s father.
Rin feels sick, from the smoke, from his mother, from Sae. He shakes his head to get rid of the thoughts, running up the stairs and away from what he had just done.
Rin reaches his room, and he slams the door shut behind him. He leans against the closed door, huffing. He sucks in a few deep breaths, willing the tears in his eyes to stay back. He can hear them arguing downstairs:
“You need to stop this behaviour right now– in front of your child?! Really?!”
“Well it’s not like he’s going to learn much from you, huh? Maybe how to be depressed– how to slash his wrists–”
“Wow! You wanna act like this? Like a baby? You would rather he’d be a pathetic, disgusting, alcoholic like you–”
Rin hears something shatter, and his mother goes silent. There’s then the slow, painful sound of someone walking upstairs– the sound of his mother.
She stops in front of Rin’s room, he can hear her breathing. For a second he thinks that she might say something, that she’ll enter his room and comfort him.
She just walks away, her footsteps disappearing after the sound of another door opening and closing.
He wipes his own tears with his sleeves, sniffling as he methodically gets into his bed and lies down. This time when he looks up, he realises that the patterns look like broken glass.
Now, Rin finds himself in front of the gym. Sweat beading down his face from how fast he ran. He checks his phone, ‘5:29am’, he lets himself breathe in and let out a deep sigh. He looks over to his side, to the surrounding shops and recreational places. Behind them all, the sun rises, oranges and gold reflecting in his teal eyes, making them sting– it reminds him of the sparklers that the kids in his street were playing with last night, burning into his memory.
Rin decides that he needs a new pack.
—
Sae just got out of the shower, wearing sweatpants and a towel around his neck as he walks into the living room. His mother is cleaning up the kitchen quietly, and his father is looking in the entry way mirror, tying a tie around his neck.
Sae sighs, and he runs his fingers through his micro bangs. The room is tense, he knows that his mother and father fought again– he wonders why he always comes back here; he knows why.
He walks up to his mother and he asks, “You need help?”
His mother flinches, snapping her head over her shoulder to look back at Sae. She lets out a breath of relief, turning around to face him.
“No, no, I’m all done here, how about you do some training or something– or you know what? Just relax, it’s nice to have a break.” She stumbles over her words. Something in Sae’s heart breaks. He nods along anyway, and he takes a few steps back, and he says, his tone blunt, “You need to tell me when you need help.” They both know the words have a deeper meaning.
She laughs weakly, and waves Sae off, saying, “Say that to Rin, he’s a bit stressed out right now, it’d be nice for him to know you’re there.”
Sae thinks for a few moments, and he turns to face his dad, contemplating. After a few seconds of silence he walks away from his mum, sitting down on the sofa. He allows a few seconds of stillness before he calls out: “Dad!”
His father lets out a gruff huff in acknowledgement, turning the corner to look at Sae.
“Dad, you still smoke, right?”
His father pauses, and he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“‘ve stopped ages ago. Why’re you asking?”
Sae just shrugs and he brings his knees up to his chest, huddled up on the sofa as he mutters, “Nothing, I think I just got you mixed up with someone else.”
—
A few days later, Rin rounds the corner from the secluded part of his school, behind the buildings where no one goes. A fresh pack sitting in the bottom of his school bag, the extra weight heavy and bringing his arm down.
He knows that no one knows, that the creeping paranoia in his brain can't help but take over.
The school day has ended, and as the afternoon starts to take its full effect on the day Rin makes his way to the field, where his teammates are messing around with the soccer balls and goals.
Rin sucks in a deep breath of fatigue, feeling the life drain from himself already at the sight of his borderline freaks of a team.
He walks over to the locker rooms beside the field, dropping his bag onto one of the benches and pulling out his sports clothes. He slides his hands down his uniform, down his chest, pulling his long sleeves lower to get rid of any bumps or creases, and when he’s satisfied he turns around to walk out– not without taking a final glance at his bag. He thinks for a moment, before walking over and zipping it shut.
Before he knows it he’s on the field.
It’s the only time he’s truly alive. He can feel his heart beating, his head throbbing and it reminds him that underneath his skin and tissue and bone, there’s a soul there– though it's one he wishes he didn't have– it’s there nonetheless.
He loves being on the field.
He’s breathing heavily. Isagi, standing beside him, looks over.
His team has been split into two, making a makeshift game between them.
Isagi’s on the other team, but he comes up to Rin anyway, patting him on the back and saying slowly, “Rin..? Are you okay?” Rin shrugs Isagi off, and he mumbles between each heave, “I’m fine, lukewarm.”
Isagi doesn’t look convinced.
“Rin, I think you should get a drink of water.”
“Fuck off, Isagi.” Rin spits, grabbing the hem of his uniform and bringing it up to wipe the sweat off of his top lip, turning away from Isagi.
Isagi scoffs, and he holds onto Rin’s shoulder, stopping him, “First of all, dont tell me to ‘fuck off’ and second of all–”
“Shut up.” Rin growls, yanking his body away from Isagi fully. Rin can feel the way Isagi pauses behind him. He doesn’t look back. He just storms off of the field, despite the teammates and his coach yelling at him to come back.
He shoves the locker room door open, slamming it shut behind himself.
He feels something wrong with him, on the inside. He presses a hand to his chest, feeling his own, erratic heartbeat.
He doesn’t think twice, he just grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder, sweat from his forehead sliding down the bridge of his nose as he leaves the locker room. He feels his teammates’ eyes on him, he doesn’t look back at them to curse, or yell, or gesture to them to fuck off, he just keeps walking away.
—
At home Rin drops his bag on the dining table, his body swaying dangerously as he runs up the stairs. Air gets caught in his throat every inhale, and he can do nothing but focus on it as he pushes his way into his bedroom, his hands shaking violently as he opens up the draws of his dresser and pulls out some clothes.
He just needs to get in the shower, to scrub off whatever is wrong with him– to wake up clean; to wake up normal.
His fists are clenched around new clothes, opening his door a peek to look at the bathroom down the hall. When he notices no one there he makes a beeline towards it. He promptly shuts and locks the door behind himself, dropping his new clothes on the ground and shrugging off his uniform. It’s disgusting. Rin can feel the sweat sticking his shirt to his chest, and his shorts to his thighs.
He looks at himself in the mirror, without the long sleeves to cover his arms the sheer disfiguration of the skin on his inner arms is on full display. Before it was smoking, it was this.
Rin can’t look. He’s ashamed.
He tries to calm down, to even his breathing, but it gets worse. His hands come up to his face, his nails–long and unmaintained–dig into the fat of his eyebrows, his hands starting to shake when he feels liquid dripping down his fingers.
What’s wrong with him now?
What’s wrong with him in the first place?
He leans across the shower, turning the faucet on to the coldest temperature, he doesn’t think twice when he steps in. As soon as the chilly water hits his skin he gasps, almost stepping out again.
He grips the shower wall, and slowly, slowly he closes his eyes, his attention settling on the sound of the water hitting the tile floor and how it runs through his hair before it does so.
He leans against the bathroom wall, the tiles sucking in the little warmth that RIn’s body is radiating. Dramatically Rin sinks down until he reaches the bathroom floor, his back against the wall as he tilts his head up to where the water is pouring down.
Before Rin realises it, his shoulders are shaking; not from the cold water but from the tears that stream down his face– mixing in with the shower. His entire body was wracking with a sob. The back of his head hits the wall as he bites his lip to keep quiet.
What more can he do?
Is he not trying hard enough?
His breathing becomes quicker, his hands grasping at the tile walls as he tries to get up. He needs a smoke, he’s never needed it more in his life– a sense of normality, a vice that doesn't show itself on his body, something he can do in the quietness of the night and the next day people will still look at him normal.
He slips slightly, and the cold water forces a chill down his spine, giving Rin something he can use to calm down. He steps out of the shower, his limbs shaking as he meticulously slides his clothes back on. If– because– something’s wrong with him, it doesn't mean people have to see it. Much less his family.
The chill is still evident in his bones when he walks out of the bathroom, visible where his legs struggle to take one step forward after another.
When he goes downstairs his mother is in the kitchen, as always. Rin knows that she knows he’s there. She doesn’t turn around to face him.
Rin doesn’t blame her.
He walks over to the table and grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder when his pencil case falls out. The sound makes his mother flinch, but she doesn’t turn around to check.
Rin just rolls his eyes, and he’s silently glad that it wasn't his cigarettes that fell out instead.
He throws the pencil case back into his bag and zips it shut again. Keeping the anticipation of tobacco between his lips silent as it crackles through his bones.
As soon as he enters his room he opens up his window, the setting sun blooming red as late afternoon chatter fills the street. He lets the wind from the beach flow into the room, sitting idly as it waits for some smoke it can clear out.
He grabs his lighter from where he hides it under a picture frame on his desk. He can’t help but feel bad, spoiling the good memory of standing on the field with Sae. Their baby faces and small bodies forever stained in ink.
He rests the lighter on the table, dropping his bag on his bed and digging through it to grab the pack of cigarettes.
He can’t feel it.
His heart rate spikes, freezing.
His fingers shake as he tips the bag over, spilling out books, pencil cases and cleats. Panic stabs Rin’s chest, growing into something disgusting and sticky: Pure, genuine fear.
Oh God, he can’t breathe again.
He throws the bag on the ground, hissing out breathlessly, “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck–”
He goes up to the bed again, searching through his things haphazardly as if hoping for the box to mysteriously manifest into existence.
He must’ve dropped it when he dropped the pencil case, that’s the only explanation; his bag was open–
–why was his bag open again?
Didn’t he close it?
Rin’s breathing quickens impossibly more. Something went wrong, something went so, so wrong.
Rin stumbles away from the bed, trying to regain feeling in his legs as his face pales. He turns away, grabbing onto the door handle and swinging it open.
On the other side stands Sae.
He raises a brow and he says casually, his tone bored as ever, “Rin?”
Rin wills for his breathing to slow, and he takes a step back, wheezing out a confused mumble, “Sae? What’re you–”
The cigarette pack.
Sae holds it up in his hand, not sparing a glance at it as he speaks,
“You’re looking for this.”
Rin freezes.
It’s silent between the two for an agonisingly long moment, until Sae speaks up, “Are you going to explain yourself?”
Rin straightens up his posture defensively, and he snaps, “I don't have to explain myself to you.”
“Yeah? Well you kind of have to now.” Sae snaps back, the attitude in his tone the most emotional Rin’s seen of him in a long while. It throws Rin off.
“Yeah? So give me a good reason why I have to tell you?”
“It’s ‘cause you’re so fucking bad at hiding it. Get a grip,” Sae punctuates his words by pressing a finger into Rin’s chest. “We both know that shallow breathing isn’t because you’re scared.”
Rin’s eyes widen and he slaps Sae’s hand away, growling, “The first time you speak to me in months and you’re lecturing me? Who do you think I am Sae? That I’m just gonna stand here and take it? Fuck off.”
“Don’t tell me to fuck off, just humour me for a sec’, why do you do it?” Sae asks, his tone low and sceptical.
“Fuck off Sae,” Rin repeats again, facing away from the door.
Sae grabs Rin’s shoulders and spins him around to face him, “I said don’t tell me to fuck off.”
Rin pauses, and then he lets out a shocked laugh, trying to shrug Sae’s hands off of him, “Is this a control thing for you? You’re not asking because you actually care, I bet you just need to feel something.”
Sae’s grip tightens and he drawls, “Enlighten me. Why do you think I’m asking– if not out of care?”
“I know it’s not out of care because you never cared.” Rin’s own hands come up to grab Sae’s wrists. “Not when you left me and Mum, not when you didn’t contact us for years!” He drops Sae’s hands away from him. “It’s control, That’s all you ever do: You leave, you come back. Suddenly my life’s not mine anymore.”
He finishes with, “You’re just like Dad.”
It’s quiet, and suddenly Rin’s cheek stings.
Sae slaps Rin.
He does it without even thinking, not when his hand throbs and his breathing slows down.
Rin’s face is still turned away as Sae wheezes,
“I’m just like Dad? Me? Don’t make me laugh you shithead.” He grabs Rin’s face and turns it back to face him.
“You’re the one who smokes, you’ve seen first hand how it ruins people, themselves, their relationships. If anyone here is gonna end up like Dad it will be you– you and your stubborn personality.”
“You don’t know why I do it–”
“So tell me?! I’ve been asking this entire time to tell me and you won’t, you’re gonna get sick–”
“I am sick!” Rin yells, his voice cracking. It stuns Sae, and he stays quiet– as he normally is.
“I am already sick. I’ve been sick for– for years!” Rin pulls away from Sae, taking slow steps back. “And no one did a thing! Not Mum– not fucking Dad! And neither did you! You just stood there and told me to quit, I’ll never forget the words that you said.”
Sae’s eyes roam Rin’s body, his sight lands on Rin’s curled posture, the shake in his fists and the teary gleam in his eyes.
“Are.. are you still upset about that?”
“Yes! I am!” Rin scoffs, his hands coming up to cover his face, his fingertips swiping the skin under his eyes tiredly.
“I don’t want to tell you why I smoke and I’m not going to. But I’m sick.”
Sae just shakes his head and he walks up to Rin. Rin flinches, taking more and more steps back until he reaches his desk.
“Then why don’t you try to get better? You’re sitting here, wallowing in your own sickness instead of trying to get out of it, do you hear yourself?”
“Do you hear yourself?!” Rin steps forward, pushing Sae back. “You’ll never know what it’s like, and I’m not ‘wallowing,’ I’m just doing what I can do to stay functional, to stay alive.”
Something in Sae’s jaw clicks as his body tightens, almost as if the concept of Rin not staying alive affects something deep, deep in his body.
“You don’t need cigarettes to survive.” He insists.
“I tried everything else– nothing is working,” Rin pulls up the sleeve of his shirt, the pads of his fingers emphasising each bump and scar as he runs his fingers down.
Sae straightens his posture, and he says, almost breathlessly, “Rin–”
“I don’t care about what you have to say. You don’t get to come back here, act like everything’s normal with this house–with this family–and try to dictate what I do.”
“I can survive without you.”
“Then prove it,” Sae growls.
Silence falls between them once more.
“Go away, Sae.”
And Sae almost does, he turns around, back facing Rin as he reaches the threshold of the bedroom door, but then he pauses.
He looks down at his feet, and then the pack of cigarettes in his hand.
He can’t.
“I can’t.”
He can feel Rin still behind him, and he turns around to face Rin for the last time.
“You’re right, I left– I left you and mum alone and there’s nothing I can do about that. I can make peace with the fact that this is helping you survive, but I can’t leave knowing that you’re not living.”
He takes a step closer, his voice wavering with hesitance, “I’m here now whether you want me to be or not, but tell me to go one last time and I will. And you can go smoke and fuck or train or whatever it is you do these days.”
Rin doesn’t respond, how can he? Years ago, he begged for a relationship with his brother and he never got it and now? It’s getting handed to him on a silver platter.
His breathing quickens, and he has to turn away from Sae, staring down at the desk below him. He grips the edge of the table and the word: ‘Go’ festers on his tongue, but for some reason he doesn’t speak.
He doesn’t want this, he tries to convince himself. He doesn’t need this.
His hands start to shake, feelings of betrayal and hurt and hope bubbling up in his body. His arms move without thinking as he slides everything off of his desk, belongings breaking and falling onto the ground. Slowly hope turns to rage, this is everything he wanted, but why is he getting it so late?
A part of him wishes that he scared Sae off, and if he didn’t he’s ready to turn around and yell at Sae, to let go of him one last time.
But suddenly there’s warmth.
Against his back there’s Sae, his chest pressing against Rin’s back, quietly his hands come up to wrap around Rin. It’s loose, hesitant, and Rin bites out: “What are you doing–”
“I’m sorry.” It slips out of Sae’s mouth unprepared, as if he didn't want to say it as much as Rin didn't want to hear it. But Sae doesn’t need to say anything more, Rin can feel his eyes watering.
He hiccups, and he becomes limp against the desk, a hand coming up to wipe at his face before Sae could see. “I hate you,” he whimpers out, so weak and fake Sae has to fight back an annoyed scoff.
“Yeah, I hate you too.”
Sae slowly eases Rin to the floor, and they sit down together for a while, ignoring the pile of Rin’s broken belongings beside them, Rin’s school stuff haphazardly strewn across his bed and the distant sound of pots and pans of their mother in the kitchen. In the end it’s oddly quiet.
Sae rests his head on Rin’s shoulder, which is slightly difficult due to Rin’s height– more like his cheek squished against Rin’s back.
“I was joking by the way.”
Rin rolls his eyes, huffing out, “I could tell.”