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Rin breathes slow and controlled, towel thrown over his head to block the sounds of people filtering out of the locker room. He thinks of wringing Shidou’s neck and feels his fingers twitch; takes another deep breath to dash it away. Another win, another absolutely insufferable match playing alongside Shidou. The guy never cooperates, acts in incomprehensible ways, and, infuriatingly, manages to score every other goal.
One more match. Rin will win one more match, get selected to take on the national team, and obliterate Sae. His fingers twitch again. The annoyance he feels toward Shidou is nothing compared to how bad he wants to crush Sae. Itoshi Sae, the world’s best — best at getting on Rin’s nerves, at building dreams just to ruin them, at walking away.
“Yeesh. I’ve never seen anyone have less fun after winning a game,” comes Shidou’s voice. Rin glares, raising his head. He’s come in late, already halfway out of his bodysuit as the last few stragglers scamper out.
“Shut it,” Rin bites. “I’m not letting you get us disqualified now.”
“Like I’m the only one picking fights,” Shidou says. He balls up his suit and tosses it on a bench. “Not my fault your ego is so damn fragile, lower lashes.”
“It’s not about ego; it’s about common sense!” Rin shoots out of his seat, his somewhat calm pulse bubbling up again. “Make your own plays instead of getting in the way of mine!”
Shidou grins sharp, stepping forward. “How about you get out of my way? For all the time you spend brooding, I thought you’d do something more interesting than follow me around, Rin-chan.”
“Listen here, vermin—” Rin makes to grab Shidou’s collar and instead finds purchase on smooth, bare skin. He grunts in surprise— right. Locker room. Blue lock. Disqualification if he squashes this bug here and now.
He exhales heavily, making to back off, but Shidou grabs him by his collar, dragging their faces close. “Giving up already? And you call other people ‘tepid’, huh?”
“I’m not a violence-hungry cockroach, unlike some people,” Rin growls, grabbing Shidou’s wrist.
“You’re just all bark and no bite,” Shidou says. But instead of trying to knee his skull, he just holds Rin there, their faces so close he can feel his breath harsh against his face.
“What’s your deal today?” Rin gripes, pushing him away by the shoulder. By the way Shidou is acting, there’s still time for him to take the high road if he would just let go. “That desperate to die, rat?”
Shidou stares at him for a moment, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. Then he grins and says, “Oh, you’re dense dense, huh?” He grabs Rin’s chin to look him in the eye and speaks low. “Anyone with eyes can tell you’re pent up, lower lashes. I’m trying to do you a favour. You wanna shut me up? Here’s your chance.”
Rin’s brain shuts down, reboots, revolts at the idea of what Shidou is suggesting, and reboots again. Shidou laughs at his sputtering. He’s probably not offering to get beaten into a pulp, so that would mean…
Shidou’s hand is warm, grabbing his face with just enough force to irk him. He’s looking at Rin expectantly, and it would be so easy to knee him in the stomach or just reach out and—
He slowly grasps the base of Shidou’s neck with his free hand. Hot skin, still sticky with a thin layer of sweat. Shidou raises an eyebrow; tilts his head as if to give Rin better access. Rin breathes hard, wraps his hand around, feels Shidou’s throat bob as he swallows.
“What’re you gonna do, Rin-chan?” Shidou teases. The vibrations of his voice make Rin’s fingers tingle.
He gives the barest squeeze, feels Shidou suck in a breath, and— fuck. Fuck it.
He crashes their lips together, shifting his grip to the back of Shidou’s neck to pull him closer. Shidou grins before seemingly endeavouring to devour Rin whole, tongue diving into his mouth without a moment’s hesitation. Rin shivers, lets loose an embarrassing while, kicks Shidou’s shin for laughing.
It’s been years since Rin has even thought of kissing someone, naive fantasies buried deep under the contentment that even if he couldn’t get a kiss, he’d still have someone by his side. After everything, he’d hollowed out his heart and pierced those thoughts dead with vitriol. And now, in that long-empty space, Shidou is sinking in his claws.
Rin lets him in, lets himself be crowded against a locker, a thigh slipped between his legs. Shidou is so, so warm, and Rin skates his hand from Shidou’s wrist down the length of his arm, amazed at how much there is to touch. Shidou breaks from the kiss, releasing Rin’s chin so he can drag his shirt off.
The moment it’s gone, Shidou latches his mouth onto Rin’s neck and bites, drawing a whine out of him. He laves over the spot, saliva dripping down Rin’s neck and cooling against his skin. It’s disgusting. He needs more of it.
“You’re a shit kisser, lower lashes,” Shidou comments, moving to bite again while his hands freely roam Rin’s torso.
“And you slobber like a dog,” Rin retorts. Still, he grabs Shidou by the hair to keep him close, quickly becoming enamoured with the pleasure-pain of his mouth. His hair is stiff from whatever product he uses to keep it up, but it’s starting to loosen enough for Rin to thread his fingers through. He feels up the muscles of Shidou’s back, shifting under his touch.
Shidou grins at him, lips coated in spit. “Woof.”
Rin drags him into another kiss, satisfied with how it shuts him up. It’s too bad Shidou is too irritating on the field to bear the thought of kissing him then. He spends about a second trying to rationalize how exactly he should be moving before deciding that hooking up with Shidou and all things related to it should go squarely into the no thinking pile. There are things that make Shidou moan or squeeze Rin’s waist or bite back, and that’s the maximum level of thought that he allows.
One of Shidou’s hands travels down, snakes into the seam of pressure between Rin’s crotch and his thigh, and squeezes. Rin gasps, throwing his head back and grinding into it. He moves his hand from Shidou’s hair to return the favour, running his fingers along the thin material of his jockstrap. He traces the obscene shape of it before tugging it down to reveal Shidou’s hard cock. He doesn’t have any tan lines, which would mean— things Rin refuses to ruminate on.
“C’mere,” Shidou urges, grabbing the back of Rin’s head and tugging him forward. “Bite. I’ll take care of this.” He tugs Rin’s shorts and briefs down to nestle under his balls, presses himself close, and takes them both in hand.
Rin moans; latches onto Shidou’s neck to muffle it. He tastes salt on his skin and bites, satisfied with the way Shidou rocks into him in response. The friction between them is dry, helped slightly by the embarrassing amount of precum he’s spilling. It just feels— good. When was the last time something felt good, untainted by all the parts of Rin’s life that Sae’s had his hands in?
He wonders what it would be like to do this with Sae. He bites harder.
Shidou groans, tugs on his hair to drag Rin into mouthing a line higher up until he reaches a point on the underside of his jaw that makes him shiver. Shidou is loud and annoying and over-the-top, and for once he’s glad for it, because it means there’s no sinking into fantasies that will only make him angry. Sae would never react like this, he thinks, and instead of cursing the thought he lets it flow away into the rhythm of Shidou’s body.
The hand around his cock disappears, though he doesn’t have much time to mourn it before it comes back slick, and Shidou grips them tighter and ruts against him in a way that makes their cockheads catch against each other. Rin keeps working at Shidou’s throat, breaking only for short moments to catch his lips until they’re both a mess of sweat and spit.
“Fuck,” Shidou groans. “Shit, I’m gonna come.” He thumbs over Rin’s slit and Rin cants his hips into the motion, drunk on the heat of their bodies together.
“Go faster,” Rin pants, surprised by how wrecked his own voice sounds.
Shidou hums, speeding up his movements. “I like you better like this,” he comments, leaning in to kiss him.
Rin indulges him, trying to scoop up the sludge his brain has melted into. He’s getting so close, all of the pleasure he hasn’t felt in so long being dragged out of every cell and pushing higher and higher until—
He moans into Shidou’s mouth, lets him devour the sound of it, spilling hot over the two of them until the slide between them is so messy and— and then there’s the novel sensation of feeling Shidou throb against him until he comes too, searing lines against Rin’s stomach.
Shidou keeps kissing him as he strokes them through until Rin twitches away in oversensitivity, and then kisses some more. Rin forces himself to break away, to push Shidou off so he can clean up. He doesn’t seem discouraged in the slightest by this, humming as he wipes his hand on this discarded suit.
Rin quickly washes off the come and sweat and spit. Stares at Shidou as he grabs his toiletries and heads to the shower. His neck is mauled in hickies, and Rin’s isn’t much better, though he thinks they’ll be somewhat hidden by his clothing. Shidou had been the one to drag Rin upward, so he feels no remorse about the higher visibility. He’s so shameless it makes him feel feral.
“To be clear,” he says, “I’m still going to murder you after our next match.”
Shidou looks back at him with the dangerous grin Rin is more familiar with and seems like he means it when he says, “Right back atcha, lower lashes.”
Rin nods and heads out, satisfied.
They make good on that promise, and Shidou is taken off god-knows-where while Rin gets his nose checked. He gets a little while to contemplate whether they’ll get the chance to blow off some more steam before Ego announces that Shidou’s being taken away by Itoshi Fucking Sae, who is supernaturally capable of disturbing Rin’s peace without a word.
That’s just it, isn’t it? Sae sent him one last smile before he left for Spain, and since then, nothing Rin has ever wanted has stayed.
Ryuusei watches the U-20 team get their asses handed to them by a group of high schoolers with a mix of boredom and excitement. Boredom because, come on, he was dragged out here just to sit on the bench to appease some lousy striker’s ego. But he can recognize good play when he sees it, and the Itoshis are good fucking players.
Rin is— well, Rin is irritating and stuck-up and when he’s on the field instead of half-naked in the a locker room, these things kind of make Ryuusei want to fuck him up rather than fuck him. But he is good, even if he plays like he’s trying to burn a fire on zero oxygen. He’s kind of successful at that, too, which makes it even more of a shame.
Sae is no slouch either; similar to Rin in the way he plays but somehow more… punchy. Satisfying in a carnal way that supersedes reason. Being hot as hell doesn’t hurt either.
So blah blah blah, the pro-level soccer players playing the pro-level soccer match are good at soccer. Whatever. Here’s the real reason Ryuusei has been watching them: little Rin-chan clearly has the biggest fucking crush on his brother.
Following him around like a puppy, trying to copy his plays, ‘Don’t I even get a hello?’ ‘We’re in the middle of a sibling fight!’. Adorable. Ryuusei has found the source of Rin’s pent-up nature, and it’s his own big brother. Hot as fuck.
When he gets called off the bench to save the U-20’s sorry asses, he has three thoughts in mind:
One: (Come on, this is obvious. Explode.)
Two: Get into Itoshi Sae’s pants.
Three: Get Sae into his little brother’s pants.
Isn’t he nice, playing matchmaker?
As it turns out, numbers one and two go hand in hand — Sae is not just good, he’s transcendental, like a stoic, extremely attractive angel come down to Earth to give Ryuusei passes that make his eyes roll back. He’s also receptive to Ryuusei coming on to him and very, very hot when he throws him to the ground. (Yes, he called him a creep. But judging by the tilt of Sae’s head, the measure of his tone, the lingering of his hands, Ryuusei is more than certain that he has a shot. If Sae wanted him to back off, he’d have cut off his dick already.)
And it’s because Ryuusei knows how to read attraction that he knows something about thought number three: Sae absolutely has a thing for his little brother. God, no matter how many times he goes over this, it still gets him worked up.
Sae is good at keeping his eye on the prize. He only ever speaks to fire people up or to shut them down, and he doesn’t seem to take actions that aren’t related to the state of the game. He also stares at Rin a lot. And not just staring, but a clearly practiced, Itoshi-Sae-branded form of staring where he looks intensely at Rin for a single moment and then furtively turns away into space like he’s replaying those little snapshots for all they’re worth.
When Rin launches his face in the way of Ryuusei’s kick, Sae pivots for a moment as if he’s going to walk over before he stops and just stares with some unreadable expression. Considering the displeased twitch of his mouth and the way his hand almost moves, Ryuusei assumes it’s because Rin is — whore alert! — letting another player help him stand as they check for injury.
Possessive. He can use that, assuming Rin hasn’t thrown himself into a concussion.
Now here’s the wrench: the concept of incest is, generally, a discouraging thing for people. It obviously is for Sae, considering that he is very, very careful about exactly where he’s looking when he looks at Rin. (It’s not a crime to admire a guy’s ass, man, and it’s more obvious when you’re avoiding it.) He needs something that will get Sae worked up past this wall.
Well, lo and behold, Rin finds some oxygen. And he burns bright.
Here is the punch; the carnal need to play. Here is all of the cold cruelty that makes Sae’s soccer so damn incredible warped and shifted into something akin to a massacre. So. Fucking. Hot. Ryuusei has good taste.
As he discovers, even Sae has his limits, and his cute, drooling little brother is one. The U-20 loses with no time to spare.
Still, when Ryuusei asks Sae about it afterwards, he manages to dodge any responsibility for possible lapses in judgement — like, oh, maybe spending the whole game working Rin up into a frenzy capable of matching him. He cares for his little brother in the strangest way. Ryuusei can use that, too.
And then Sae walks over to where Rin is sulking and Ryuusei thinks, this will either make things a lot easier or a lot harder. He carefully meanders over out of both their lines of sight, feels hopeful when he sees Rin’s wide-eyed expression, and just manages to catch—
“Isagi Yoichi. He might be the egoist to do it…”
—God. It’s like Sae is trying to cockblock himself. Rin is right there, spit running down his chin, probably willing to suck him off at a moment’s notice, and he just has to crush that fantasy, huh?
What a principled guy, too worried about his own lust to allow himself to even look at the object of his desires. All Ryuusei really needs to do is get them in close quarters and the brothers will snap like rubber bands. Rin would resist, sure, but he resisted for all of two seconds before making out with Ryuusei. Sae is the tougher one to warm up, but in the right situation…
He hums to himself, moving away to grab some water as he plans.
Ryuusei works through a few versions of this in his head as he walks back to the locker room, tugging his jersey off as he enters. Sae’s eyes linger.
He grins. “See something you like, Sae-chan?”
In spite of the many U-20 members milling around, Sae doesn’t hesitate to respond, “Ask me that when you’ve cleaned up, demon.” Then he turns to the showers without a second glance.
“Meet me down the hall!” he calls to Sae’s retreating form. He doesn’t get a visible response, but there’s no missing him when the locker room is quiet and the U-20 members are staring with a mix of disdain and surprise, some clearly noting the nearly-faded hickies littering Shidou’s neck. Sae hadn’t commented on them, and Ryuusei wonders how he’d respond if he knew who left them.
He washes off, noting Sae’s long, unhurried post-shower routine. He’ll have time. He dresses and heads out, peeking into Blue Lock’s locker room and finding just two people left.
He eavesdrops as Rin pushes Isagi off. “I can’t stand you anymore.” If the guy wants to make headway with Rin, he should learn that it’s not about talking down the driver slamming on the breaks; it’s about directing him into an explosive collision.
Isagi spots Ryuusei as he leaves the room, pausing with a wary look. Ryuusei waves him off, and something about his demeanour must lack murderous intent, because he nods after a moment’s hesitation and walks away.
Ryuusei leans in the doorway, taking Rin in. He’s still in his soccer uniform, sulking with a towel thrown over his head, so similar to last time. But today, Ryuusei has another person to drag into this crash.
“That was some exciting stuff, lower lashes,” he says. Rin doesn’t look up. “The energy stays for a long time after the match is over, huh? All your cells, screaming for a goal that didn’t happen.”
Rin breathes audibly hard, but he doesn’t snap back quite how Ryuusei expects. “And you’re here to do something about that.”
He grins. “You catch on fast.” He approaches until he’s standing right in front of Rin and threads his hand into soft, sweat-damp hair, tilting his head back until the towel slips away. “Let’s blow off some steam, huh?”
Sae tugs a hand through his hair as he scrolls through his phone. He’s not fond of the residual sweat on his scalp, but it’s a pain to re-style it now. It seems like his manager is getting worked up over the prospects of today’s game, as if Sae is at all interested in representing Japan with a team that loses to a group of high schoolers.
He puts down his phone, tilting his head to the ceiling. Everyone else has left the locker room already, and alone, Sae turns moments from the match over in his head. Blue Lock has hunger; that’s for sure. Rin has hunger.
Alone, he can indulge for a short, sweet moment. In four years, Rin’s soccer sense had seemingly degraded into the kind of uniform trash that Japan loves to output. In his time in Blue Lock, he’s clawed his way back into someone that could throw a wrench into Sae’s visions of the field; found someone that could drive him to become that, and that someone isn’t Sae.
He refuses to let this painful, beating satisfaction in his chest spread any farther than what’s strictly necessary — it’s that rhythm that drew him to Rin after the match, and it’s because he knows better than to listen to it that he crushed Rin’s hopeful expression under his heel. He needs— he can’t— it’s not healthy, what Sae feels for Rin, and when Rin looks up at him with wide, naive eyes— it amazes him that Rin can still look at him like that even now, and he’s exhausted by the visceral reaction of his desire. But Sae knows better; knows that this horrid mass of affection he feels is asking him to suffocate someone who should have far more room to grow.
It’s fine. There are many things Sae and Rin don’t talk about — haven’t talked about in five years — but this is something Sae learned to keep under wraps even before he left. It’s obvious to him that it’s melded strangely with soccer, just like everything does, but what does he care if a strangled root has grown in twisted?
He takes a deep breath in. Moment over. No more thinking about Rin’s smile or his skills or his tongue lolling out of his mouth. As he exhales, he recognizes that what was supposed to be a rare, happy train of thought has become tinged with soccer-based angst. It’s for the best; it’ll keep his mind off it.
Refocusing, he tucks his phone away and stands to peer out of the locker room. He looks down the hall on both sides, trying to determine which way Shidou went. Why’d he choose to meet somewhere else in the first place? He seems like someone with an eye for a good time, so Sae hadn’t bothered to question it, but— to the right is a dead end, and to the left is just the locker room that the Blue Lock Eleven team is using. Perhaps he’s stashed something away.
He makes his way down, listening closely. It’s clear that everyone except Sae and Shidou has long vacated. If he strains his ears… he pauses outside of the locker room, wondering if he’s hallucinating the softest schlick sounds slipping past the cracks in the door. He huffs. Maybe Shidou just wanted a chance to jack off so he wouldn’t come prematurely.
He pushes the door open, ready to give some teasing comment— and yes, Shidou is standing in plain sight, shirtless, head tilted back in pleasure, but below that is—
“Rin?”
It slips out of his mouth unbidden, and with absolutely none of the disgust that should be permeating his voice at the sight of his little brother straddling the edge of a bench with Shidou’s cock shoved deep in his throat. Automatically and not without a deep serving of guilt, he takes it all in — Rin’s teary eyes, the bulge in this throat, his grip on Shidou’s thighs, the way he presses his clothed crotch against the hard bench — before tearing his gaze away.
“What…” He trails off, flails trying to figure out a normal response without losing too much in his mental replay. “You’re insatiable, demon,” is what comes out.
That is. That’s kind of an approximation of something a normal person might say when faced with their hookup fucking their little brother, right?
Fuck. He hasn’t had this much trouble convincing himself since the last time he dreamt of Rin.
“Yep~” Shidou gives a lazy tilt of his head to glance over at Sae. “See something you like, Sae-chan?” he repeats, lower this time. Dangerous. His shorts are pulled down to his thighs, where Rin’s hands are gripping.
Rin seems to have processed the situation a beat late, and his eyes widen, but Shidou’s hand is secure on the back of his head and he stays gagged with his cock. Then he glares at Sae; looks pointedly away; sinks down further and causes Shidou to groan.
Sae looks at Shidou, hopes the heat in his face doesn’t diminish the effect when he says, “You’re sick.” Though not as sick as the illness that lives in Sae’s ribs, burning the bright red stain of Rin’s cheeks into his memory.
“That’s me~” Shidou sing-songs. “You might wanna close the door there, or someone might see him like this,” he says, caressing Rin’s tear-stained cheek.
Sae glares, something dark bubbling up at the thought, and before he can process the implication of the action, he steps inside and closes the door.
Shidou grins. Incubus, he thinks. He didn’t expect that stories of demonic temptation could be so literal.
“You want a turn, don’t you?” Shidou offers, drawing his hips back so Sae can see the slick length of his cock before he slides back in. If Rin has objections to any of this, he doesn’t show it; even twitches his hips. Sae is not going to have a peaceful night of sleep for a long time.
He can’t bring himself to deny it. Watching Rin, the nervous little glance he sneaks, a new, dangerous pathway begins to bloom in Sae’s vision. It’s one thing to fire Rin up; to cut him off so he can grow elsewhere. But if Sae says upfront that he doesn’t want him, there’s no backtracking.
He should know better than to entertain this hope, and he does, really, really. He knows, and he doesn’t face it, but he doesn’t know how to make himself walk away.
“No? Oh well,” Shidou says at his lack of response. He cradles Rin’s face, grins down at him, and says, “Guess you’re all mine, Rin-chan.”
Rin glares up at Shidou and tries to garble something that gets lost between them. Shidou pays no mind to it, drawing his hips back faster this time and thrusting back in until he’s rhythmically fucking into Rin’s mouth. Rin clearly isn’t used to it, but he takes it surprisingly well, and when he gags or chokes Shidou slows down with the gentlest hand always caressing his face.
Shidou does not strike him as someone that takes sex slow or gently or lovingly, which means that somehow, he knows how bad Sae wants to be in his position. Making Rin tear up, finding proof of his devotion in the way he refuses to let up to breathe— fuck. He’s supposed to be distancing himself from Rin, not moving forward, not grabbing Shidou by his bare shoulder and glaring until he pulls out of Rin’s mouth.
His thoughts are buzzing. This is where he should put an end to all this.
Rin looks up at him, eyes hazy with pleasure. They clear a bit as he takes Sae in, and he thinks that there are two paths here. The first: Rin will push him away, call him a creep, possibly storm out or slam the door in Sae’s face to go back to his activities with Shidou. The second: Rin will look up at him wide-eyed and all too hopeful, say something like, Nii-chan? and it’ll give Sae the willpower he needs to walk away.
He does neither. He keeps Sae’s gaze and leans forward until he can nose at the unfortunate bulge in his pants. Sae freezes; resists the urge to lean into the minuscule pressure. Rin starts mouthing at him, and he’s so, so warm and drool quickly soaks the fabric and his plush tongue presses against him and— and Sae has never had less blood flowing functionally to his brain than right now.
From the corner of his eye, he processes Shidou taking off his shorts and leaning against a nearby locker, stroking himself without an ounce of shame. He starts to wonder what the two of them must look like from his perspective, but quickly decides this is a no wondering situation. It’s dangerous enough without adding dreams into the mix.
He threads a hand into Rin’s hair and Rin responds immediately, moving with more boldness, pressing against him with unpractised movements. Rin hesitantly raises a hand to Sae’s waistband and pulls back to try and undo his pants. He glances over at Shidou and Sae feels a spike of possessiveness flare up in his chest, but if he pushes Shidou away then he has absolutely no leg to stand on in defence of all this.
“Need some help, Rin-chan?” Shidou teases, walking over to settle behind Rin on the bench.
“Shut up,” Rin mutters, undoing Sae’s zipper.
Shidou ignores him, instead turning to Sae. “I just taught him to suck dick a few minutes ago,” he says with a dangerous, inviting grin. “He’s cute, right?”
Rin’s already red face heats even more, and he reaches behind to give Shidou a punch before tugging Sae’s pants and underwear down. He looks up, opens his mouth as if to speak before he seemingly thinks better of it. His hot breath hits Sae’s cock, hard now, and it twitches and catches Rin’s attention again. Sue him; it’s not like he bothers to fool around often.
With a little hesitation, Rin carefully grabs the base of it and gives a little kitten-lick to the tip where precum starts to pool. Sae’s vision blurs as he tries to process how the fuck he got here.
He flicks his gaze to the demon currently getting comfortable pressed up against Rin’s back. Right.
Shidou gets nice and cozy with Rin, resting his chin on his shoulder with one hand snaking up his jersey, causing Rin to shiver. Sae feels starved with the few points of contact he has, but if he wants to make it out of this, he needs to walk the line between his endless greed and the distance he has to keep between them.
“Don’t forget this,” Shidou comments, laying his hand over Rin’s to encourage him to pump the base of Sae’s dick. Rin throws a displeased look back at him and bats him away, continuing with a loose grip. Sae soaks in the quiet pleasure of it; the slow build so lovingly tempered by Rin’s clumsy movements.
And then Rin slips Sae into his mouth, and the pleasure spikes sharp.
It’s so unbelievably soft. Hot and slick and velvety like nothing Sae has ever encountered before, enveloping his head with an unbearable sweetness. He brings a hand to his mouth to muffle anything that threatens to slip out, but Shidou leans forward to grasp his elbow and yanks it away.
“I’m sure he wants to hear you, Sae-chan,” he says, grinning, hips grinding against Rin’s. His movement pushes Rin further and he takes another inch before he’s ready, gagging around the mouthful of Sae he’s taken in. Sae startles, struggles not to buck his hips as he tries to urge Rin to back off so he can recover. But Rin shakes his head as best he can, forces himself further down as his throat convulses, looking up with a steely, determined expression. Maybe they both know this will be over the second the momentum stops.
Rin takes him halfway and pauses, swallowing and making sparks fly up Sae’s spine. It’s inescapable, the heat of his mouth, the drool spilling down his chin, the thing in Sae’s chest fighting its restraints and asking him to take more. He lapses and wonders for just a moment whether Rin’s ass would feel anything like this; feels an endless amount of repressed fantasies swarm like vermin and barely manages to shut them down, though not before giving in to a twitch of his hips that tugs him to the back of Rin’s mouth.
Rin sputters again, and again he doesn’t let up. He breathes carefully through his nose, stroking the base of Sae’s cock as he awkwardly tries to find a rhythm bobbing his head.
Sae would be content to let him try; god knows he’s come thinking of Rin doing less. But Shidou is clearly unsatisfied with Sae’s inaction, because he leans back a little and grabs the back of Rin’s head by the hair and fucks him properly onto Sae’s cock.
Rin cries out, eyes fluttering shut, and oh, he likes it. The vibration dizzies him, and he’s surprised at the sound of his own voice when a groan slips out. Rin’s eyes snap open again, and for a moment he’s the wide-eyed kid surprised at Sae’s praise before he gasps and jerks, head forced further down by Shidou’s grip.
He realizes that Shidou has snaked his other hand down to the dark tent in Rin’s shorts, palming him roughly. Rin cants into it, whimpering around Sae’s dick as Shidou drags him up and down. Drool spills out of the corners of his mouth and runs down his chin, and tears start to run down his face again. Sae gasps in vibrating wonder, bringing one hand to Rin’s cheek to swipe it away. With the other, he readjusts his grip on Rin’s hair, steels himself, and tugs.
Shidou lets up almost instantly, letting Sae hold Rin’s head in place while he thrusts in. Rin cries out, a hand flying to Sae’s hip to steady himself. His eyes slip shut in bliss, tongue struggling to find a rhythm with him until he gives up and lets Sae fuck into him as he pleases. While Rin is still, Shidou tugs the neck of his jersey down to reveal pale skin still recovering from a set of hickies — hickies that match Shidou’s. A spike of arousal thrusts through him.
He starts working at Rin’s neck, looking up at Sae in a way that dares him to shove him away; to mark Rin himself. Somehow, that feels like a thicker line to cross than this — shoving his dick into his little brother’s mouth, rolling his hips deep to see how far Rin can take him, coming to terms with the fact that he’s going to come and there’s no safe reality to wake up to.
Shidou comes first, biting bruises into Rin’s neck, rutting against his clothed ass and surely staining his clothes. It’s like a marking, Sae thinks, and that’s enough to make him pull out at the last second. He keeps a hand on Rin’s chin, keeps him looking up with that confused, blissed-out expression as he strokes himself furiously, and then—
He paints Rin’s face in his come — his cheeks, his forehead, his pretty pink tongue. Rin stays obediently still until Sae works out the last little drop, eyes shut.
Sae breathes hard, trying to imprint the image in his memory. This once, he lets himself stare instead of working off shameful glances. Shidou grins at him, leaning back in his afterglow.
Rin blinks one eye open, the other lid having caught a strand of cum. He hesitantly draws his tongue back into his mouth, tasting Sae’s cum seemingly without any qualms, and swallows. Sae stares. His hand caught a few drops, and he slowly brings it to Rin’s lips. He opens and cleans the release off his fingers. Blood rushes in Sae’s ears.
He leans down and caresses Rin’s face, wiping off his cum and bringing it to Rin to taste until he’s cleaned up all but the few streaks in his hair. And then he’s just looking at Sae, cheeks flushed, and— fuck. Fuck it.
He kisses Rin, getting a knee on the bench between his legs for leverage. Rin lets him in easily, lets him taste his cum on his tongue, lets him take and take and take. The terrible thing in his chest rejoices, sparks and pops and sends shivers through his spent body.
Fuck. He’s missed Rin so bad.
They break for a moment to breathe, and he can’t bring himself to look at Rin, and he thinks this is where the momentum ends. But Shidou wraps his arms back around Rin, mouths at his neck, says, “Want me to take care of this, Rin-chan?” as he palms at Rin’s shorts again.
Rin shivers and lets out the sweetest moan, and Sae’s greed gets the best of him.
“Fuck off,” he says, tearing Shidou’s hand away and replacing it with his own. He takes Rin’s mouth again, kissing him deep as he slips his hand into his tight shorts and past the soaked fabric of his jockstrap. Rin shivers, his neglected cock throbbing in his grip. He raises a hand to grab Sae’s shoulder but doesn’t hold him any tighter than that.
It doesn’t take long for Rin to come, grinding messily into Sae’s hand, moans swallowed up by Sae’s mouth until he twitches away in sensitivity. Sae lets himself kiss Rin for one, two, three moments longer before he gathers up every last scrap of his willpower left and pulls away.
He looks at Shidou, waiting to see if the demon has any more traps set, but he just grins, laying back on the bench with satisfaction. He looks down.
Rin is looking back with the wariest little spark of hope in his eyes, and Sae can’t take it. He walks away, finds a set of sinks behind the bend of lockers and starts cleaning himself up.
There’s shuffling from around the bend as he assesses how obvious the spit stains on his pants are. Maybe Rin and Shidou are going again. Maybe Shidou is going to endeavour to take all the firsts Sae can’t.
It’s… good for Rin to get to know other people. Take his focus off Sae and aim it somewhere productive. If he’s going to become anything, it’s not going to be with Sae in mind.
So Rin and Shidou. Or maybe someone else — he and Isagi had seemed properly obsessed with each other, and it’s because he knows that that’s good for Rin that he knows the ugly thing in his ribcage is always leading him in the wrong directions. Today’s events will just become another thing they don’t talk about, at least until Rin comes to his senses. Though ‘coming to his senses’ could easily mean developing the revulsion he should have against his own brother popping a boner at the sight of him, and then maybe Rin will never look at him again.
He sighs. At least he got a kiss.
This — the weight in his chest, the unfocused frenzy of his thoughts — is what he gets for dreaming. There are things he can have in this world and things he can’t. He can’t find satisfaction as a striker. He can carve a place for himself elsewhere on the field. He can’t give his brother a pass that will make him smile again. He can, apparently, get a single, blissful moment with him. He can’t ever have it again.
He smooths out his shirt, listening carefully for any movement beyond the row of lockers. He’s not sure if the idea of Rin and Shidou makes him jealous or turned-on, and he’s not sure which is worse.
Walking around the lockers, Shidou is still splayed on his back, fully naked, humming to himself. Rin is… gone. The sound of running water starts up from the showers.
“Don’t forget to give me your number~” Shidou sing-songs, grinning.
And Sae shouldn’t, really, considering what just happened, but he can’t find it in him to resist. “Fine.”
He lets Shidou input his contact info, wondering if he should broach any of this. It’s clear to him that Shidou is either a very hopeful, very lucky pervert or he can actually read something in the way Sae looks at Rin. On the off chance that it’s the second, he stays silent.
“Don’t worry, lower lashes,” Shidou says, handing Sae’s phone back over, “I’ll keep you updated on your precious baby brother~”
Sae stalls. Stares at him. Realizes it was stupid to think that the demon would be out of traps to play.
“Whatever,” he manages, turning away, unable to make himself say gross, shut up, die.
Shidou cackles, and Sae leaves the locker room with his traitorous heart sparking and popping with joy.