Having too much fun with tattooed Rin if it’s not that obvious. You play a dangerous game there Matsuoka.
freestyleonly said:*tries really hard to keep his eyes on Rin's face, but he just can't help staring at the cat ears on his head instead* Rin. You have cat ears.
Rin hated his life at the moment. He counted to ten in his head, sighing heavily, staring back at Haru, “I would have never guessed,” Rin finished off with a pout. He really wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there. One of his cat ears, drooped a little, causing Rin to grunt, “This is annoying…”
Haru blinked, ignoring Rin’s annoyance and following the drooping ear with his eyes instead, staring at it. “… they move,” he said in amazement, still watching it. He was really curious about what would happen if he tried to touch it, but Rin didn’t look like he would appreciate that very much at the moment. Still, the urge was too big and he was too curious, so Haru found himself reaching out to rub Rin’s ear lightly between his fingers before he could stop himself. “They feel real,” he muttered, a little confused. He turned his eyes back to Rin’s for answers, scratching behind his ear out of habit, without realizing it.
This was downright embarrassing. He noticed Haru’s eyes on him, on Rin’s ears, and he felt somewhat self-conscious. After Haru stated the obvious once more, Rin grunted, “Apparently they do.” The look on Haru’s face worried Rin though, his eyes still fixed on his ears. It seemed Haru wanted to touch them and Rin gave the other a look that could kill. “D-Don’t you dare.”
His warning was ignored as Haru reached out to touch the cat ears. Rin shivered as he felt Haru’s fingers lightly touching the ear, “I-I told you not to touch it,” he sighed but didn’t push Haru’s hand away.
An unfortunate blush graced his features, “That’s because they are, you dodo,” Rin brought his hand over Haru’s own, “I don’t know why I have them though.”
Sometimes Rin likes to watch.
There’s something about being a third-party observer, something about seeing it all from any angle he wants. He likes watching Makoto unravel under Sousuke’s large hands, likes the way he trembles and arches, talented fingers teasing him. He can see Sousuke’s muscles flex, can observe every catch in his breath, every reaction he’s having to Makoto.
He loves to hear the noises without distraction; the slick sound of sweat-kissed skin meeting, the breathy moans, the cries his boyfriend’s can’t swallow back down because it’s too much. He loves that Sousuke will meet his eyes with a grin, cocky and confident, and how sometimes Makoto will look at him in a haze, mouth open and panting, ‘Rin, Sousuke’ against the sheets.
Sousuke will deny Makoto what he needs, sometimes, especially for Rin’s sake. He’ll draw it out, won’t touch Makoto, won’t let Makoto touch, until Makoto’s face is buried in his arm and he’s sobbing, heaving out pleas that make Sousuke’s pupils blow out until his eyes are almost completely black. Rin sees himself mirrored there, a predator.
Makoto’s knuckles turn white when he’s finally granted leniency, and Sousuke’s eyebrows furrow as he gets desperate. They’re beautiful, and the show is all for Rin. And when they’re winding back down— all of them, because Rin can’t watch without relief— he crawls onto the bed and kisses them both languidly, murmuring against their skin how appreciative he is that they indulge him, how lovely they looked so close.