[Rin cries. It’s part of who he is. The boy wears his feelings on his sleeve. Sometimes he can almost succeed with an attempt to conceal them, but Sousuke knows he’ll ultimately fail. His god’s not the kind of person that can stow everything inside and put up some kind of front for very long. Eventually it becomes too much and breaks down. Either in outbursts of anger or in these hot tears he can’t hold in. Maybe because of his own personality and strange “skill” in that area, Sousuke’s able to recognize those attempts. And maybe it’s why it’s easier for him to knock down Rin’s walls and allow him these bittersweet breathers. Like someone coming up for air after being submerged for far too long… If he had his way, he’d never let Rin wall himself off, even for Sousuke’s own safety. But, unfortunately, he doesn’t have his way here and has to adapt to it. Both of them give each other something to help them cope with this place.
Because that’s what friends do. After such a distant, strange, rocky start, Sousuke readily admits that. Rin is his friend. His best friend. And he’s grateful to be with him. No one else—he’s sure of this—could be this important and connected to him.
They’re people who are close, but keep that respectable, comfortable distance between them. Sleeping in the same bed, but not entwined like something out of a romantic movie, swimming in the same pool, but in their own lanes (unless they’re practicing relay exchanges). They’re not the kind that walk around with arms thrown about each other, sitting on the same side of the table in a restaurant, acting all close and inseparable. But tonight… Maybe he blames it on the romantic restaurant that hosted their date-not-a-date earlier. Maybe he simply accepts that Rin’s a romantic maniac.
Or maybe Sousuke’s more human than he oftentimes pretends. And seeing Rin cry alone on the bench… crying because of him, for him… How can he not offer something? Quiet words to tell him it’ll be all right, an arm to show him he’s not alone, warmth to prove they’re together, going to be together, forever. As arms wrap around his neck and Rin’s face vanishes into the recesses of his embrace, Sousuke looks at his god with a small, tender, bittersweet smile.
You really are a big-hearted idiot. There’s no change of pushing him away.]
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Because that’s what friends do. After such a distant, strange, rocky start, Sousuke readily admits that. Rin is his friend. His best friend. And he’s grateful to be with him. No one else—he’s sure of this—could be this important and connected to him.
They’re people who are close, but keep that respectable, comfortable distance between them. Sleeping in the same bed, but not entwined like something out of a romantic movie, swimming in the same pool, but in their own lanes (unless they’re practicing relay exchanges). They’re not the kind that walk around with arms thrown about each other, sitting on the same side of the table in a restaurant, acting all close and inseparable. But tonight… Maybe he blames it on the romantic restaurant that hosted their date-not-a-date earlier. Maybe he simply accepts that Rin’s a romantic maniac.
Or maybe Sousuke’s more human than he oftentimes pretends. And seeing Rin cry alone on the bench… crying because of him, for him… How can he not offer something? Quiet words to tell him it’ll be all right, an arm to show him he’s not alone, warmth to prove they’re together, going to be together, forever. As arms wrap around his neck and Rin’s face vanishes into the recesses of his embrace, Sousuke looks at his god with a small, tender, bittersweet smile.
You really are a big-hearted idiot. There’s no change of pushing him away.]