#harurintercourse

The cafe door chimes. A group of teenagers, middle schoolers by the looks of them, spill in, shivering. A tall boy, maybe taller than Rin, brushes snowflakes off of a girl next to him. She giggles when his hand brushes her nose. Rin looks away, annoyed by their display. Haru is late.

He checks his phone again. No new messages from Haru. He scrolls up, past their good mornings and good nights and I’ll definitely beat you next times until he reaches the address of the place Haru promised to meet him at. It hasn’t changed since the last time Rin looked at it, five minutes earlier. Rin is still in the right place.

The door chimes again. The sound is unwelcome in its familiarity. Rin doesn’t feel like looking up, doesn’t want to the deal with the disappointment again, so he misses the moment Haru finally walks into the cafe, misses the way Haru’s face lights up when he spots Rin.

“Rin,” Haru says when he reaches the table Rin has been waiting at. There’s snow all over his clothing. He hasn’t bothered to shake any of it off. It’s on his beanie, his scarf, his jacket—Rin averts his eyes, realizing it looks like he’s checking Haru out. Which he isn’t. “The train was delayed. An accident,” he says as he sits down across from Rin. His face is flushed, whether from the cold or something else, Rin doesn’t know.

Rin nods his understanding. He wants to brush the snow off of Haru, but he doesn't. Instead he asks Haru what he wants to order. Rin knows what he wants, he’s stared at the menu long enough. Haru goes for something sweet. Rin makes a face when it arrives, all sugar and fat. Haru is an athlete—he should care more about his diet.

When they finish finish eating, Haru flashes him a smile. It’s enough to make Rin’s heart race. He’s glad Haru isn’t touching him. They head for the theaters. Haru’s lateness means a later showing, but neither of them mind. Haru holds his hand as they walk in the snow. Rin is thankful for the winter. Both of their hands are gloved, and for once Rin isn’t afraid of the contact.

The exact moment Rin found out Haru was his soulmate is forever etched in his memory. It’s soon after he lets Haru and the rest of their relay team know he’s moving to Australia. Rin has touched Haru millions of times already; it’s the kind of person he is back then. It gives him a small thrill when Haruka doesn’t brush him off. He thinks nothing of resting his arm on Haru’s shoulder one afternoon while they wait for Makoto and Nagisa to join them. He doesn’t expect the sudden influx of emotions and sensations that aren’t his, that don’t make any sense. Neither does Haru. He yelps in surprise and backs away from Rin’s touch. It takes Rin a few moments to realize what has happened.

Telepathic touch bonds are rare. They only work with skin-to-skin contact. The overwhelming majority of bonds are between couples, but some bonds are between family and friends. No one knows why the ratio is so off, though some argue it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy—people see telepathic touch bonds as inherently romantic, calling them soul bonds and labeling the pair involved as soulmates, which in turn pressures them to see each other in a romantic light. Rin isn’t sure if he believes this. His parents are soulmates. His mother claims she fell in love with his father long before they discovered their bond—during their first kiss. Rin always found that story romantic. He wants to discover his soulmate the same way, but it doesn’t happen that way. Instead the discovery of his soulmate is confusing and comes at the worst possible time, just when they’re about to be separated. Haru gives him no opportunity to discuss their bond, and is pointedly careful to never let Rin touch his skin again. It isn’t until almost a year later that Haru touches Rin of his own volition, grabbing his hand as he runs away crying. What flash of his mind Haru saw, he doesn’t know. He was too distraught to register the grief and terror Haruka felt. They don’t touch again for years after that.

Things are different now. They’re older. They’ve made up. They’re even dating now, sort of. It’s complicated. In truth, Rin is afraid to even hold Haru’s hand. He doesn’t want Haru to see into his heart, to see how weak and damaged he truly is. The relay healed only a small part of what was wrong with him. It’s an important part, without it he will start to decay, but he still isn’t the same person he was at twelve. Years of self-loathing chipped away at his idealism, his optimism, leaving him broken and defensive, perpetually angry at the world. It’s hard to bounce back from that. He doesn’t know how to be an open person anymore. He’s always hiding some part of himself. Under no circumstances can he touch Haru.

Which wouldn’t be a problem if Rin didn’t want to touch Haru so badly. If only they were a normal couple. He could have kissed Haru a million times over by now, could have buried his face in the crook of Haru’s neck, could have hugged him tight. But they aren’t. He can’t do any of these things without risking opening up his entire heart to Haru. The only time he isn’t afraid to touch Haru is after the relay. He hugs Haru that day and it’s like discovering their bond for the first time. He feels empty when they break apart.

The movie is boring, but Rin cries anyway. Haru hands him a pack of tissues. Rin tries not to feel annoyed he’s predictable enough for Haru to know he’ll need them.

When it’s over they reach the part Rin is dreading. He doesn’t want to go back to Samezuka just yet. He feels as if he’s barely spent any time with Haru, even as the winter sun begins to set, saying otherwise. But their parting never comes. Haru asks him if he wants to spend the night. Rin says yes, even as his stomach churns in terror. Will Haru find it strange if he refuses to take his gloves off all night? He almost changes his mind and backs out, but his desire to be with Haru is strong enough to overcome the anxiety it causes him. He doesn’t get to see Haru all that often. The time they spend together is precious. Rin is happy that Haru wants to extend it.

It’s dark when they reach the stone steps to Haru’s house. Rin is quiet as they walk up. For once it’s Haru who is rambling, telling Rin he didn’t have a chance to clean up, that the living room will be cold since there was no one home to heat it while they were away, that he has leftovers to feed Rin—not mackerel to Rin’s surprise—if Rin is hungry. He is.

The house warms up in no time. The mess Haru warned him about is laughable. It’s nothing compared to what Rin deals with every day sharing a dormitory with Nitori. He tells this to Haru, and Haru gets a sullen look. Rin is happy for the distraction of food, but it doesn’t last. He doesn’t know what to do when they finish eating. Haru tells him to take a bath, he’ll bring out Rin’s futon in the meantime. His voice is oddly stilted. It tempts Rin to touch him, to read his thoughts and find out why Haru is acting so strange. Is the awkwardness between them because Haru regrets asking him over? Maybe Rin is just imagining things, projecting his own insecurities onto Haru. If only their connection didn’t go both ways.

Rin stays in the bath until all this fingers and toes prune. He doesn’t want to get out if it means going back to that unbearable atmosphere. He feels tongue tied around Haru, and Haru keeps rambling. It’s unnatural, the opposite of how things are supposed to be between them.

Rin’s mind is faraway when he walks into Haru’s bedroom. His hair is still wet and he hasn’t put on the shirt Haru laid for him yet.

“I laid out the futon for you, if you want to sleep.”

Rin tries to nod in response, but he’s not sure if his head moves at all. The futon is right at Haru’s bed. It’s too close, but if he moves it, what will Haru think?

Haru passes by him, heading out of the room for a bath. They’re both distracted. Rin is caught up in his mind, worried he won’t be able to fall asleep with Haru only a few feet away from him. It’s why neither of them expect the sudden invasion to their minds when Haru’s hand brushes against Rin’s bare arm. The connection is instantaneous and overwhelming, freezing them both in place. Haru is trying to avoid looking at him. He finds the water dripping down Rin’s bare chest distracting. He wants to lick it. He wants to run his hand down Rin. He wants to—

Haru pulls his hand away, mortified. Rin’s face heats up. He’s reeling. He’s filled with desire aimed at himself. It’s disorientating.

“Sorry,” Haru says, turning away. If Rin lets him walk way, they can pretend this never happened. They can go back to being careful not to touch.

Rin doesn’t want that.

He grabs Haru’s hand. The connection doesn’t surprise him this time. Haru is humiliated. He thinks his attraction to Rin disgusts him. He’s always careful to keep Haru from touching him. It’s obvious he isn’t interested in Haru that way.

“That’s not true,” Rin says. Haru is wrong, so wrong. He only has to think back to Haru gathering his schoolwork off of the table; seeing Haru’s hands made Rin picture himself sucking off his fingers. He’s definitely attracted to Haru. He’s just afraid.

“Afraid of what?” Haru asks.

“I’m not the person I used to be.” He doesn’t want to disappoint Haru, doesn’t want Haru to see the bitterness in his heart. He can’t stop the flood of memories that jump to his mind. Being in Australia and watching his times get further and further behind his teammates. Pretending nothing is wrong when his mother calls. The bitter jealousy he feels seeing Rei swim with Iwatobi. Torturing himself by walking to Iwatobi Elementary School during the summer festival.

Haru pulls away. Rin’s heart shatters. He was right. Haru doesn’t want to share his soul with someone like Rin. His throat seizes up. He’s going to cry, and he hates himself for it.

Haru hugs him. Buries his face in Rin’s neck. Rin is revived.

“Rin.” Haru’s thoughts are a warm blanket to Rin’s cold heart. Haru regrets not touching Rin sooner. “I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve ran after you.” He means the day of their race.

“No!” Rin shouts it because it’s important. “It’s not your fault, it was never your fault.” Haru quit swimming because of him. Haru, who loved the water more than anything, quit because of the guilt Rin caused him. It wasn’t right. Rin is angry at himself.

“Stop, Rin. It’s in the past.” He senses the way Rin’s guilt is threatening to spiral out of control. He pulls back and looks Rin in the eye. His arms are still around Rin, keeping their connection. He hates seeing Rin in pain, hates seeing him hurt. It’s worse than being in pain himself.

“Sorry,” Rin says, apologizing.

Haru makes a derisive sound. “Don’t apologize for feeling things. Being anxious about seeing you upset is my problem, not yours.” He doesn’t want Rin to feel as though he needs to be happy and cheerful all the time. He’s allowed to be angry and hurt. Haru can deal with it. What would make Haru happiest is Rin not holding back around him. “What do you want, Rin?”

Rin thinks about it. With Haru in his mind, it’s hard to lie to himself. He’s been afraid for so long, he’s avoided admitting he wants Haru to accept him, to share that connection with him. His old ideas about how romantic it is to share a soul bond with someone pop into his mind. What if he never transferred to Iwatobi, never met Haru. He would have lost his chance to meet his soulmate. Meeting each other is miracle.

“Stay.” He means now, he means always. “I want to touch you.” He stops holding back, stops trying to deny the way Haru makes him feel. It’s his own lust that fills him, not Haru’s, but the way it echoes back at him through Haru intensifies the experience. They’re not even doing anything yet, and it’s enough to make him feel woozy. What will it be like if they kissed?

“Let’s find out.” Haru kisses him and it sets off an explosion inside of him, his awareness expanding from Haru’s lips and how good it feels to kiss him, to sensing the way Haru feels as he kisses him. Rin’s lips are soft. Haru sucks on them, and gasps. He can feel Rin’s pleasure.

“You really liked that,” Haru says.

“You don’t have to say it out loud,” Rin says. It embarrasses him.

Haru likes when he’s embarrassed. It’s cute.

“I’m not cute,” Rin whines. Haru is cute, not Rin.

Haru’s face heats up. Rin wouldn’t have noticed it on his own, but he can feel it as it happens. Haru likes to pretend he’s unaffected by Rin’s words, but he isn’t.

“You’re cute, Haru.”

“Shut up,” Haru mumbles. “You’re much cuter. You’re beautiful.” He says it casually, but his words make Rin’s heart jump. Rin never thinks of himself as beautiful—who would be that arrogant—but to Haru it’s like stating a fact. “Because it is a fact.”

Haru kisses him again and they stagger backwards, until they reach Haru’s bed. For a moment Haru thinks about taking them to the bathroom, he would like to have a bath with Rin, but Rin’s immediate “No!” makes him give up on that idea. For now. Rin groans, over his dead body will he ever give in to Haru’s bath fantasies.

“You’re overestimating the size of your bath tub.” Rin is lying on his back, his hands tangled in Haru’s hair. Haru’s hair is soft, and he likes it when Rin tugs it.

“You’re underestimating it,” Haru counters.

Haru reaches between Rin’s legs. They’re both hard; it’s why Haru wants to touch him, but Rin panics anyway.

“What is it?” Haru asks, confused by the images in Rin’s mind. Rin pushes him off, he doesn’t want Haru in his mind. Haru is hurt, but he backs away. He trusts Rin.

“How do I know this is real? That it’s not just my own feelings being reflected back at me?” The loss of contact sobers his mind. Haru wants him, wants to touch him, that much he’s sure. But did he reach for Rin’s cock of his own accord, or was it because he senses the way Rin is craving friction? Does it matter?

Since Haru is no longer touching him, he’s able to be surprised by his answer. “We can put a plastic sheet between us. Then you’ll know for sure.”

Rin stares at him. “What.”

“You know, like plastic wrap for food.” Haru’s face is serious.

Rin grabs his hand, and it’s as he thought, Haru is laughing at him.

“You’re a jerk,” Rin says. His anger doesn’t effect Haru at all.

“It would make clean up easier, I’m sure.”

Rin kicks him and regrets it when the sharp pain from his kick is reflected back at him.

“Rin, I mean it.” Haru’s mind is serious now. “We don’t have to touch directly, if you don’t want to.”

The gesture is enough for Rin. “Thank you.” But right now he doesn’t want any barriers between them.

With Rin’s nerves soothed, Haru kisses him again. Rin is annoyed Haru is still wearing a shirt. Seconds later, Haru makes it disappear. Good, Rin growls, and he’s not sure if he says it out loud or in his head.

Haru straddles him, and does what he’s wanted to do for ages: he feels Rin’s  chest. His hands are everywhere. Rin is burning up. Haru knows it; it delights him.

Annoyed, he grinds his hips against Haru. A mistake, the burst of want from Haru doubles back on him, and he pushes harder against Haru to trigger it again.

“Stop that,” Haru says.

“Why?” Haru wants him to keep going. At least, that’s what his body wants.

“I’m not going to last like this.” He doesn’t want to come before Rin has even taken his pants off.

“So?” Don’t last then, Rin thinks.

Haru pinches him. The sharp stab of pain brings him clarity. Haru thinks Rin is too caught up in what he’s feeling, and is forgetting himself. He’s not entirely wrong. But with the way Rin can sense his pleasure it doesn’t feel like he’s neglecting himself. On the contrary, it feels like he’s seeking his own satisfaction.

“Fine,” Rin relents. “Pants off.” He feels cocky, self-assured, and it hits him some of that is from Haru. Deep down Rin is nervous. But Haru is eager. Rin is losing track of himself.

He pulls away from Haru again as they undress. The lose of contact is strange, but welcome. Haru seems to be gathering his own sense of self. Maybe they should use saran wrap, Rin thinks pathetically.

“I have lube,” Haru says, “I bought it when we first started going out.” A few months ago then. Haru confessed after swim practice one day. Rin was thrilled, and then his anxiety crept in, keeping their relationship from moving forward.

“Okay.” Rin nods. He waits for Haru to get it. He feels stupid sitting naked in Haru’s bed. He half expects Haru not to come back. But Haru does, and it takes them only a moment to decide what to do next.

Rin wants him, he’s sure of it at that moment at least. There’s something about the way Haru craves him. The attention feels good. He thinks it will feel even better with Haru inside him. He tries to will down his memories, but that only makes Haru curious. He’s angry to let Haru see them; he doesn’t want Haru to know how pathetic he is. He’s fingered himself before and he likes the way it feels. Sometimes when Nitori is home with his parents for the weekend, he’ll spend the night imagining Haru fucking him.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Haru says, licking the corners of his eyes. Tears have been forming, but Haru’s reaction makes them stop. Rin’s memories have turned him on. He can barely restrain himself from pushing Rin down. “You’re not the only one.” Haru jacks off to him in the bath. He has a special bath gel he likes to do it in.

Rin snorts. “Sorry,” he apologizes immediately, not wanting to hurt Haru’s feelings. But he doesn’t need to, Haru knows perfectly well Rin is only amused by the fact Haru chooses the bath tub over his bed.

“You should try it.” Haru is unscrewing the bottle, coating his fingers in lube. “I promise it’ll feel good.”

Rin has to admit it’s tempting, but only because Haru is in his head. He would deny it normally. He doesn’t want to get caught up in Haru’s pace.

“We’ll see then.” Haru fully expects him to give in. Rin bites his lip, annoyed. It’s hard to argue with someone who knows what he’s thinking.

Haru begins to stretch him out. It gives Rin the strangest déjà vu, and he doesn’t understand why—until he realizes Haru knows what he likes from his memory. His face grows hot.

“Rin, relax.” Haru kisses his forehead. But Rin can’t relax, his throat is seizing up for some reason. “Rin, I want you to feel good. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset.” Right? He tries to make sense of his emotions. “It’s just weird.” He doesn’t want to think of himself when Haru is touching him.

Haru smiles and thrusts his fingers into Rin in a way that’s completely unfamiliar. The shock curls around him, and makes Haru close his eyes. They’re both taken back by the intensity of what Rin feels.

“Okay,” Haru says, “I think understand now.” Haru isn’t there to be Rin’s perfect fantasy of him. Rin wants the real Haru.

Haru is finished prepping him. He lines he cock up with Rin’s hole, and Rin feels his uncertainty—how can he fit inside of Rin? It doesn’t feel possible. But Rin knows it is, and he’s getting anxious. He wants Haru inside of him already. So Haru bites back his worry and pushes himself inside of Rin.

Rin is tighter than Haru thought possible, and it’s only Rin’s eagerness to be filled that keeps him going.

“I’m in,” Haru says. He doesn’t need to—Rin’s insides squeezing Haru’s cock is all either of them can feel at the moment. But he can’t help it—it’s too amazing. He fits inside of Rin’s body, like he was made to be there.

“Romantic,” Rin snaps. He meant it to be teasing, but he feels restless with Haru inside of him, not moving. He wiggles his hips, and it makes both of them groan. “Get on with it.” He doesn’t mean to sound so pushy, but the combination of his need and Haru’s is making his cock ache.

Luckily Haru finally gets it. He thrusts into Rin, and Rin’s mood instantly changes. He’s tight; Haru is filling him. He feels both things at once. Haru watches him. He can’t get enough of the view of Rin under him. His face is flushed, his hair is splayed around the pillow, his nipples are erect. The detailed portrait of himself in Haru’s mind is embarrassing, but he can’t even manage to feel that way for more than a few seconds because Haru’s lust from seeing him look so wanton is drowning it out.

He brings Haru down, wraps his arms around Haru’s back. Haru can’t look at him anymore. Problem solved. But that only frees up Haru to speed up his rhythm, no longer distracted, and search for the spot he knows Rin has. When he finds it, Rin cries out and digs his nails into Haru’s back.

“It feels good, Haru.” He says it even though he doesn’t have to, because it makes Haru drive into him harder. Haru likes the way it feels when Rin whispers into his ears. “Haru,” he calls out again. “Haru.” He keeps calling out Haru’s name, whispering it against him, feeling the way his breath makes the hair on Haru’s neck stand up.

Haru loves him. It’s not a thought Haru has. It’s the underlying emotion behind his every action. Rin only realizes this now, with Haru pushing into him like his life depends on it, because all of his walls have crumbled down. There’s nothing he’s trying to hide anymore, and it lets him see what should have been obvious all along. Haru loves him. That’s why Rin being in pain hurts him, why Rin’s happiness is important to him, and why he wants to touch Rin. It’s not because of some mystical bond. It’s not Rin’s emotions spilling over into him. Haru’s love exists without Rin reciprocating. The miracle isn’t that Haru is his soulmate—the miracle is that they feel the same way about each other.

Happiness envelopes him. Haru’s happiness, his happiness. “You finally understand then.” Haru is looking at him, love on his face. He laces their fingers together.

“I love you,” Rin says.

“I love you too,” Haru rolls hips, and it’s the final push Rin needs. He comes, and tightens around Haru even more. His pleasure drags Haru along. He’s coming inside of Rin, and it’s messy, but it thrills Rin. He’s wanted to feel this at least once.

They’re both panting when it’s over, a messy tangle of limbs. Rin feels like it’s been hours, but a glance at Haru’s clock says otherwise. Haru perks up, he’s already thinking about going again. Rin head-butts him. It’s more of a nuzzle. “Do you want to kill me? I’m already going to be sore tomorrow from this.”

“We—“ Haru begins to speak, but Rin is already screaming in his mind. Haru is about to suggest they take a bath together. They won’t be sore from that. Haru promises he’ll just give Rin a handjob—nothing else, he promises.

“No,” Rin says, but his protest is weak even to his own ears. A bath does sound soothing.

“I’ll carry you,” Haru offers.

Rin’s pride says no, there’s no way he’ll let Haru carry him. But Haru can see past his pride. He would very much like Haru to carry him. So Haru does.

The iron padlock fell to the ground. Rin stared at his hands. They were covered in red bumps. It had happened twice already this month. He couldn’t pretend it was simply a coincidence any more. Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes.

He picked up the padlock with his sleeve, careful not to touch it directly. He locked the gate and headed home. Twenty-three more days until the next full moon. Twenty-three days until he saw Haru.

The full moon was the only time Haru could cross over into the human world from the fairy world. It was the only time he could see Rin. Those brief encounters had come to mean everything to Rin. Haru was the only person he could speak with about what was happening to him. Rin’s father had been a fairy, crossing over to the human world on occasion. One night he spotted Rin’s mother and instantly fell in love. Because it took magic to travel between worlds, magic humans didn’t have, he chose to stay in the human world. Rin had been born less than a year later

If his father had lived perhaps he would have explained to Rin what was happening to him, why iron made him sick, why he couldn’t fall asleep on the full moon, why an energy he couldn’t control seemed to swirl inside of him, but he had died years earlier. Without Haru, Rin would have thought he was losing his mind.

Night descended on the Matsuoka cottage. Rin listened carefully until he was sure his mother and sister were asleep before he crept downstairs and out the back door. A chorus of crickets and frogs greeted him when he stepped outside. The bright light of the moon made it easy for him to see where he was going as hiked through the small woods behind his family’s cottage.

Haru was waiting for him in the meadow at the end of the trail. No matter how many times Rin saw him that first glance each full moon was like seeing him for the first time. Haru took his breath away. It was clear at first glance Haru wasn't human. His features were too perfect, his skin too clear; he seemed to glow. And then there were the wings on his back. They were like butterfly wings, but Rin had never seen a butterfly with wings quite like Haru’s. They were blue, a deeper and deeper blue the further they got from his back, turning violet at the edges. There was a translucent quality to them that made Rin want to see what they looked like in the sun. Haru could fly with them, but not in the human word. In the human world, he said, there wasn’t enough magic in the air to fly. It was a shame; Rin wanted to see Haru fly.

“Rin.” Every particle in his body seemed to react to Haru’s voice. He longed for Haru to hold him. “What’s wrong?”

Was he that easy to read? The worries of the past month flooded him. “I don’t just think I’m allergic to iron anymore. I know I am.”

Haru cursed in a language Rin didn’t understand.

“What about the pain?” Haru asked.

Rin hesitated. He didn’t want to admit the truth. “Worse. It’s no longer intermittent. I feel it all the time now.” Everything inside him ached, a dull throbbing pain that seemed to grow stronger every day.

“That’s the magic in you. It wants to be released. We’re not meant to be in human form for so long. It makes us ill.”

“I am human,” Rin snapped automatically. It was an argument they had frequently. “I don’t have another form.”

“You do. It’s why you’re in so much pain.”

Rin shook his head. He didn’t want to believe what Haru was saying, what all the signs were pointing to. It was too frightening. “I’m not—“ He couldn’t even bring himself to say it. “I’m human.”

Haru brushed a stray hair from Rin’s face. His hand lingered on Rin’s cheek. He gave Rin an apologetic look, as though he could sense the growing panic inside of Rin. “You have magic in you,” he said, “I can feel it. Can’t you feel it in me?”

Rin could. There was a hum of energy around Haru at all times. He could sense where Haru was without seeing him.

“I can feel something,” he admitted, “but I don’t have any magic. I’m human, can’t you see that? I don’t have any wings.”

“But you do. You just need to learn how to bring them out.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Everything he knew about magic from Haru made it sound natural. It wasn’t something you could learn by studying from a book, it was something you felt. Rin found it all terribly illogical.

“Maybe I can help you. Rin…I’ll let you feel my wings.”

Rin’s eyes flashed in surprise. As a child, he had asked Haru many times if he could touch Haru’s wings but Haru had always refused. You didn’t just touch someone’s wings, he would say.

“Are you sure?”

Haru nodded. “It might help you bring out your own wings. The block you have, it’s mental.” He turned his back to Rin and sat on his knees. “Go ahead,” he said.

Rin took a deep breath and sat behind him. Haru’s shirt was built with space for his wings to go through; it gave Rin a great view of the muscles on his back. He forced himself to focus on Haru’s wings. They were large and intimidating—Rin wasn’t sure where to begin. He gave a tentative touch to the tips of Haru’s wings; they fluttered for a moment, frightening him.

Calm down, it’s just Haru. He reached out again. Haru’s wings were soft and sturdy; they were not at all as fragile as they looked. That relieved Rin. Some kind of powder or dust covered them. Fairy dust, Rin thought, just like in stories. The dust made Haru’s wings glitter, even under the moonlight. There were ridges on his wings, small lines that added texture. Haru’s wings fluttered again when Rin began to trace them.

“Does it tickle?” Rin asked.

“Something like that,” Haru said, his voice strained.

Rin tried to imagine himself with wings. What would they look like? His father’s wings had been green. They were shaped a little differently than Haru’s too. Did all fairies have unique wings? Or was it a trait that was passed on, like hair color? There was still so much he didn’t know, so many questions he still needed to ask Haru.

Rin felt every line, every ridge, every corner of Haru’s wings. Except for the occasional flutter of wings or a tense intake of air, Haru had gone still. Rin didn’t notice. He was too caught up in exploring Haru’s wings. The timidity he had started out with was gone.

He reached the spot where Haru’s wings met flesh. It was hard, tougher than what Rin had imagined. It frightened him in a new way. He pictured wings bursting from his back, tearing away his flesh. He shuddered. Any progress he had made imagining himself with wings had been ruined.

“It’s no use,” Rin said. “It’s not working.”

Haru was silent.

“Haru? Are you listening to me?”

“Mmm.” Haru mumbled something incoherent.

“It’s not working,” Rin repeated, letting go of Haru’s wings to face him. Haru had a look in his eyes Rin had never seen before.

“Haru?”

“Yeah. Give me a moment.” He steadied himself. “You’ll grow ill if you can’t release your magic,” he finally said. “I know a way to bring out your wings myself, but there’s a reason I haven’t suggested it.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything.”

Haru’s expression was pained. “Don’t agree without knowing what I ask. I can only bring out your wings during one particular circumstance.”

“Which is?” Haru’s evasiveness was starting to irritate him. There had been a way to help him all along—why hadn’t Haru offered it from the beginning?

Haru looked away. Rin thought perhaps he wouldn’t answer. Finally, he spoke. “When you’re spilling your seed.”

Rin choked on air. “What?” He was hoping he had misheard Haru, and if not he hoped that particular euphemism meant something entirely different for fairies.

“Perhaps humans don’t have that saying. What about—when you come? During ejaculation? While making love? Having sex? Coitus? Though those three are all optional, you should be able to achieve the needed result on your own.”

Rin wondered if he could hold his breath long enough to pass out. Maybe it would be faster if he smashed his head against a nearby rock. Anything, anything to never have to hear Haru say the word ejaculation or coitus ever again. He would rather talk about these things with Old Lady Mariko and she was ninety, partially deaf, and had lost her sense of smell twenty cats ago.

“That’s—that’s. Okay. What’s the worse that could happen if I never bring out my wings?” He laughed nervously.

“You magic overwhelms you and you burn up from the inside.”

“That sounds fine. A fast death probably.” He could accept that. It sounded better than Haru’s suggestion.

“Actually, it’s quite slow and agonizing. I didn’t want to say anything, but it’s already happening to you. That’s why you’re in so much pain.”

“Really, the pain’s not too bad. I’m already used to it. Thanks for the suggestion and all, but I think I’ll pass.” He tried his best to sound casual, hoping it would make Haru drop the subject.

“You can simply take care of business in the bushes and call for me when you reach your climax. I don’t need to be near you for the entire duration.”

“Take care of—no! No! Not in a million years. I’d rather die. Anyone but you!” he sputtered, his face bright red.

“Anyone but me?” Haru looked hurt. “I don’t want to put you through something that makes you so uncomfortable, but I can’t think of anything else. I don’t want you to die, Rin.” The distress in Haru’s voice made Rin’s stomach do flips. He had never seen Haru so agitated before.

“It’s—it’s embarrassing,” Rin stuttered.

“I’ll stand as far away as possible.” That didn’t make Rin feel remotely better. “With my back turned,” he added.

“That’s why it’s embarrassing!”

“You’d rather me stand closer?” Haru raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! No.” Rin covered his face with his hands and groaned.

“What is it, Rin? You’re acting strange.” He pried a hand from Rin’s face.

“Gee, I wonder why. The guy I’m attracted to wants me to jack off in from of him. What could be upsetting about that?” He knew he sounded slightly hysterical but he couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment.

“You’re attracted to me?” Haru’s eyes lit up.

Rin didn’t see the point in denying it, not if it got Haru to understand why he couldn’t do what he’d asked. “I like you, Haru. A little more than I should in a way I can’t help. You can’t ask me to do this. I’d rather take my chances and try to bring out my wings on my own. I just need a little more time. Maybe—”

He was cut off by Haru pouncing on him, making them both fall to the ground. Dozens of fireflies flew away in a panic. The hum of magic in Haru erupted into a great tidal wave. The flowers in the meadow started to bloom, creating a burst of color around them.

“Rin, can I kiss you?”

“Am I hallucinating? That must be the next step once you start burning up,” Rin muttered. Haru’s wings were fluttering so much he was sure in the fairy world Haru would have been floating above him, not pressing against him. It kind of hurt, actually. Haru didn’t seem to care at all about distributing his weight in a way that didn’t crush Rin’s ribs.

“Can I, Rin?” he asked eagerly, ignoring Rin’s mutterings.

“Yeah.”

Rin closed his eyes. Haru was warm, his lips soft. Their kiss deepened; Haru’s wings fluttered erratically. He broke away, suddenly nervous.

“What is it?” Rin asked. The entire meadow had bloomed. Fireflies were gathering everywhere, setting the night ablaze, though most of them kept a polite distance from Rin and Haru.

“I don’t want to do something you’re not ready for. I told you, I can keep my back turned. It doesn’t have to mean anything—“

“It will mean something to me even if you stand on the other side of the woods, blindfolded.” I’ll be thinking of you anyway, Rin didn’t add. “But if it’s weird for you, I understand.” His chest constricted painfully.

“No,” said Haru, “I want to help you.”

“You want to help me get off? Thanks, but I was hoping for a bit more than that,” Rin teased, sounding more confident than he felt.

Haru’s eyebrow shot up. “What did you have in mind?”

“I want to, with you, sex.” Rin cringed. “I mean, I don’t want you to get me off and call it a night.”

“Oh,” Haru said.

Rin was thankful when Haru kissed him, saving him from making a greater fool of himself with a reply. His skin warmed to Haru’s touch. It surprised Rin just how hot Haru seemed to run. It was at odds with his cool temperament.

Haru tugged at his shirt. Rin raised his hands, allowing Haru to pull it off of him. He wanted Haru to touch him. He wanted to feel Haru’s skin against him. Haru nipped at his neck; it made him shiver despite the heat rolling off of Haru’s body.

“So, how do we do this?” Rin asked, trying to picture the logistics of having sex with wings involved.

“Well, I can provide stimulation by—“

“No! I mean. Does it hurt to lie on your back?” He couldn’t remember if he had ever seen Haru lie on his wings before.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Haru said, “but it isn’t comfortable either.”

“In that case, can I—“

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“Okay.” That was all Rin needed.

His hands trembled as he reached out to touch Haru’s face. He was nervous. The threat to his life hovered in the back of his mind, but it wasn’t the reason for his anxiety. He pulled Haru closer and kissed him. Haru was true to his word. He let Rin lead the way. Rin deepened their kiss, gaining confidence as Haru reacted to him. He unlaced Haru’s shirt. It fell off, he didn’t know where, he was too busy admiring Haru’s tanned skin. Haru’s body was lean and graceful, his muscles strong. He looked like someone that spent a lot of time outdoors.

Rin’s knee was in between Haru’s legs. He pressed closer to Haru, wanting to feel Haru’s hot skin on him, and as he did, he pushed against Haru’s erection. Haru groaned. The sound surprised Rin. All of it surprised him. Even as Haru kissed him a part of him had worried Haru didn’t really want to be with him. How could he not? It was hard to ignore the reason they had started along this path. Feeling that Haru was hard, hearing him groan in pleasure, did much to alleviate his worries.

“I want you inside me,” Rin said. His voice raspy to his ears.

Haru trailed a finger down Rin’s lower back. “I can make it easier on you, with magic. If you like.”

Rin’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m starting to feel suspicious about the magic you know.”

“Shut up,” Haru muttered.

“Not that I’m complaining.” Rin kissed him. “Do it.”

The magic Haru used was simple. His finger trace the outline of Rin’s hole and in moments, something warm and slippery began to spread inside of him. It was a strange feeling, not particularly good or bad. When Haru was done they both shed any clothing they still had on, exposing themselves to the elements. A light breeze tickled Rin’s skin. He used Haru’s shoulders for balance as he lowered him onto Haru’s cock. Whatever magic Haru had used to loosen him up had worked. He slid down easily onto Haru, taking him all in at once. He grunted when he was fully seated. Haru had seemed to be an average size, but inside of him he felt impossibly big.

“Rin.” Haru kissed his chest as he tried to get used to the sensation of Haru inside him. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Rin, does it hurt?”

“No. It’s not that.” It didn’t hurt in the slightest, but it was a strange sensation. He had nothing to compare it to. “It’s a lot, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Haru muttered impatiently, giving a slight jerk of his hips. The unexpected movement sent ripples of pleasure through Rin. He opened his eyes in surprise.

“Hey, what happened to me taking the lead?” Rin hissed.

“I thought you were burning up. My mistake.” Haru tried his best to look innocent.

Rin snorted. “I’m not. Well, I am, but—you know what I mean.” The dull ache inside him was still there but being with Haru had put it out of his mind. “I”ve never done this before,” he said, suddenly feeling nervous, “I’m not sure—“

“Neither have I,” said Haru.

“Oh. Oh? You seem to know what you’re doing.” He tapped the finger Haru had used to loosen him.

To his surprise, Haru’s face turned a deep scarlet. “I know a bit about these things. For reasons.”

“For reasons?” Rin raised an eyebrow.

Haru coughed and looked away. His movements reverberated inside of Rin. “Yes. For reasons.” He collected himself and eyed Rin, his face still red. “Are you ever going to move?”

“Maybe,” Rin teased. Their banter relaxed him, made him feel like it was just another night.

He lifted himself up experimentally. Haru watched him, his expression noticeably controlled, inspiring Rin to slam himself back down with as much weight as he could muster. Haru’s sharp intake of breath made him smirk. “Happy?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Haru grunted.

Rin started up a slow rhythm, trying to figure out what angle brought him the most pleasure, what speed worked best. The pain he had been carrying for weeks faded to the background. He forgot about Haru’s warnings of his impending demise if he couldn’t bring out his wings. It didn’t seem important. Not when Haru was in him, kissing him, moving with him. Nothing mattered to him but pleasure. He rolled his hips with Haru, his heart thumping wildly whenever Haru called out his name. His insides clenched around Haru; pushing them both to further heights. Rin began to lose himself completely. Haru was thrusting into him at just the right spot. Finally it was too much.

“Haru,” he cried out, trying to warn Haru before he came. He knew he supposed to for some reason, he just couldn’t remember why. Haru’s arms reached behind his back and suddenly the entire world was brighter, louder, more alive. All his senses were on fire. He could hear Haru’s heart. He had to squint from the light of the fireflies, they were blinding him. Some kind of energy was flowing uncontrollably out of his body. There was so much of it. His wings fluttered as he reoriented himself. The world dulled again, still brighter than it had ever been before, but no longer overwhelmingly so.

“Your wings are beautiful, Rin.” Haru was staring at him in awe.

“What do they look like?” he asked.

“They’re red, like your eyes.” Haru hesitated. “Can I touch them?”

“Of course,” Rin said, not understanding why Haru would ask for permission in the first place, not until the first brush of Haru’s fingers sent him reeling, forcing Haru to pull away when his wings began to flutter out of control.

“Shit.” His wings were sensitive in a way he hadn’t anticipated. A belated feeling of mortification hit him. This was why Haru had never let him touch his wings before. Their sensitivity was frightening, but it had felt so good. “Don’t stop.”

Haru stroked the edges of his wings. It helped Rin understand the size and shape of his wings. He shuddered when Haru raked his nails down them. It didn’t hurt, Haru had been careful to be gentle in everything he did, much more careful than Rin had been, but it made him cry out anyway.

“How can you stand having wings?” Rin asked. “It’s too much. I can feel everything.”

“It’s not always like this,” Haru said. “You’re not reacting to my touch exactly, you’re reacting to my magic. If a human touched you or if you touched yourself it wouldn’t be this…arousing.”

“Did it feel like this when I touched you?”

“Yes.”

Rin kissed him, pulling him in close and wrapping his arm’s around Haru’s neck. Haru melted into him. He brushed Haru’s wings, with understanding this time. Haru moaned into his mouth and again used his nails to send ripples of pleasure through Rin that made his cock twitch. He wondered if he could make Haru come just by touching his wings. He wanted to find out.

“Wanna bet I can make you come from just this?” He swiped his fingertips across Haru’s wings; Haru’s eyes flashed with desire.

“Good luck,” Haru said, sounding very much like he was hoping for Rin’s victory.

The sun was beginning to rise. Birds of all shapes and size were waking up, their cheerful songs filling the air. A tiny robin landed on Haru momentarily, flying away only after Haru gave it good pet. If Haru didn’t leave soon he would be stuck in the human world for the next month. Rin didn’t want that. It would make Haru miserable.

Rin felt incomplete without his wings. Haru had shown him how to switch between forms; it was easy now, after that initial first time. They had both gone without wings a few times that night. It made certain things easier. Seeing Haru without wings had thrown him off, but it had been nice to kiss Haru’s smooth back.

“Rin, come with me.” Haru held his hand. “Not now, but next time. You should see where you’re from at least once.”

The pain Rin had been feeling had completely disappeared after Haru brought out his wings, releasing the magic that had built up inside of him, but at Haru’s proposal that familiar ache almost seemed to return. His heart felt like it was being squeezed. He wanted to go with Haru, desperately, not next month, but now. He didn’t want to part from him, not after what had happened between them. If he had thought a month was a long time before, now it seemed to stretch out eternally. But he couldn’t just leave his mother and Gou behind without any explanation.

“I’ll think about it,” Rin said. He knew Haru had meant for the night, not for a month, and certainly not forever, but Rin felt in his soul just as his father had found someone in the human world to stay with, Rin had found someone to stay with in the fairy world. If he went with Haru, he wouldn't come back—not as drastically as his father had cut ties certainly, he would visit his family at least, but that would exactly be it—they would be visits.

Haru kissed him one last time before fading away, like a ghost, as he crossed back over to the world he belonged in. Rin missed him already. Without him the world was dull, the colors less vivid, the sounds less lively. The meadow was a lonely place without Haru. He didn’t want to be there any longer. After one last look of longing at where Haru had disappeared, Rin began the hike back home.

The start of spring meant only one thing to Rin. The diving season had begun. It was time to work.

Hours and hours of her day, from April to the end of September, were spent in the water. During the diving season being on land felt unnatural and strange, the ground beneath her alarmingly solid, the air around her unbearably dry, leaving her craving to be back in the ocean where she belonged. During the diving season Rin would make as much money as a fisherman did the entire year. She was lucky. She was easily the best diver in her generation, maybe the best diver in her village. She could hold her breath like a veteran diver. She had an eye for finding the best catch—she was especially good at finding pearls.

Her skill, her luck made her the subject of envy. It was to be expected. Diving was collaborative—until it wasn’t. There was a hut by the sea all the divers shared. It was where they changed, chatted, checked their equipment, and showered when the day was through. In the hut they were all friends, sisters—but in the ocean they were competitors. Diving was a trade passed down from mother to daughter—or Rin’s case from grandmother to granddaughter—and where to dive was as important a secret to pass on as how to dive. There were spots along the coast every diver knew about. The youngest and oldest divers, those unskilled or no longer up to the dangers of diving so far away from land, dived in those spots. Rin had started out diving in those spots—at the tender age of ten—under the tutelage of her grandmother.

It was grueling work. She struggled to hold her breath, to dive down without panicking. She was afraid she would dive down one day and forget which way was up. She was too slow, too clumsy. Her grandmother could fill ten baskets in the time it took Rin to fill one. Rin was embarrassed and frustrated with her lack of her progress. She wanted to quit. She hated being a diver. But she needed the money. In an isolated fishing village like hers there weren't many prospects for young girls.

One day during the beginning of her third season as a diver, Rin swam out to the little cove her father loved. Back when he was still alive he would take Rin, her mother, and Gou to it using his fishing boat, making an entire day trip out of it. Rin’s mother would pack lunch and Rin and Gou would swim in the clear blue water of the cove. It had seemed like such an adventure to get to the cove. To Rin’s childish mind it was an exotic location. But now she could swim there on her own without getting tired at all.

She had gone to the cove to cry in peace. She couldn’t cry in front of Gou. Gou needed her to be strong. Their mother was sick. It wasn’t the type of illness you could see. It was in her mind. She left their tiny cottage less and less each passing month. There were days when she didn’t even leave her bedroom. She was kind a woman, a loving mother, but after her husband’s death something inside her had dimmed. She lost her liveliness. It was understandable—until it wasn’t. Her melancholy had deepened with time. She stopped working. She began to rely on Rin and Gou’s incomes. Rin’s grandmother prepared their meals. Despite the terror and helplessness Rin felt as her mother drew away from society, Rin knew she was lucky. She still had a home, food, income—it should have been enough to satisfy her. But it wasn’t. She cried because Gou was struggling to dive, much more than Rin ever did. She wouldn’t be able to become a diver. She need to find an apprenticeship somewhere else. She cried because she was sure her mother would never leave the house again, and that filled her with despair and fear. She cried because the weight of her responsibilities were crushing her. If she didn’t do well this season their family would struggle to survive the winter. She was still a child. She didn’t want such a heavy burden.

It would have been one of the worst days of Rin’s life—if not for the fact it was the day she met Haru.

“Why are you leaking water?” The strange wording and unexpectedness of the question startled her from where she sat huddled in the sand, crying her heart out.

A girl her age was in the water, watching her curiously. She was topless which didn’t faze Rin in the least—none of the divers bothered with shirts, skin dried faster than cloth—but it should have. The girl wasn't a diver or Rin would have recognized her.

“Leaking water?” Rin puzzled over her meaning. “Do you mean crying?”

“Crying?” The word sounded strange when she said it, like she had never used it before. “What’s that?”

“It’s when you shed tears.” The girl’s face twitched ever so slightly in confusion. “It’s what I’m doing now. You cry when you’re sad.”

“Are you sad then? Is that why you’re”—her faced twitched again as she tried to remember the right word—“crying?”

The question made Rin start crying again. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked her about her feelings, even in a perfunctory way.

“I don’t know,” she sniffled, “I guess I am sad.”

“Why?” The blunt question was softened by the girl’s innocent manner. There was no judgement in her voice. It made Rin want to tell her everything.

So she did.

The girl never interrupted her. She never said a word at all. She simply listened. Rin started with her father’s death until she made it all the way to why she had swam out to the cove to cry where no one could see her.

“I can only hold my breath for half a minute or so. I’ll never be able to find something good like that.” Rin’s lips trembled as she fought back tears of frustration.

“I can help you.” There was no pity in her voice. It was a simple offer.

“How?” It seemed too good to be true.

“I know a lot about finding things in the ocean.” She ducked into the water, disappearing from Rin’s view. Her actions were so sudden Rin stood up and searched for her, worried something had pulled her down to drown her.

But it was fine. A moment later the girl was at the shore, dragging herself out of the water. Rin wondered why she didn’t stand. Then she realized she couldn’t. Her bottom half was that of a fish. She was a mermaid. Rin had been talking to a mermaid. All the worries swirling in her head seemed to still. What did they matter anymore? She ran to the girl’s side, splashing water everywhere in her excitement.

“You’re a mermaid!?” She crouched down to speak face to face to the girl. Water lapped at her heels.

“Yes, obviously,” she said, flicking her light blue tail impatiently. The color blended in with the water of the cove.

“I’m Rin. What’s your name?” Rin stared at her in awe.

“Haru.”

“Haru,” she said, trying out how the name felt against her tongue. “Can you really help me? Is there some secret spell that will let me breathe underwater? Or maybe sense pearls? What about making me into a faster swimmer?” There was a fisherman in Rin’s village that claimed a mermaid had blessed him with the ability to find the best tasting mackerel.

But Haru didn’t offer something so magical. Instead she taught Rin how to swim faster and smarter than all the other humans. They swam together almost every day Rin had off. She couldn’t teach Rin how to hold her breath—but she didn’t need to. It came to Rin with time. She wanted desperately to keep up with Haru. It drove her to practice and practice like she never had before. By the time Rin was seventeen there was not a single diver in the village that could stay underwater as long as she could.

Every day during the diving season Rin would row out to the secluded spot Haru had found for her and wait until something tapped the bottom of her boat—Haru letting her know she was there. That was Rin’s signal to dive. She wasn’t the only diver that did this but she was the only one that rowed out alone. The other woman always took someone with them—someone to pull them back up to the surface. They didn’t dive freely this far from shore. They secured themselves to a pulley. Rin didn’t bother with any of that. She had Haru.

Haru kept her company as she dived. She didn’t talk much (Rin had never figured out how Haru was able to speak underwater without it sounding like gibberish but she did somehow) but Rin found her mere presence comforting. She was safe with Haru. Safer than she would have been tied to her boat. Haru could bring her to the surface faster than any human device could. She trusted Haru with her life.

But lately things had started to change. That feeling of comfort, the warmth that came from being around Haru, it was still there—but there was something else, an uneasiness. Rin was too aware of the way Haru watched her. She could feel Haru’s eyes on her when her back was turned. She would turn around to find that Haru was staring at her unabashedly until realizing, delayed, that Rin had caught her in the act. She would blush then, as much as Haru ever blushed, and turn her head away. But her embarrassment did not stop her from doing it again. Rin was at her wit’s end. She couldn’t concentrate on what she was doing. In one terrifying moment she flipped over her tub, spilling the contents of several hours of work right back into the ocean. Haru had to scramble to collect it from the ocean floor. Things were getting out of hand. Finally, on her day off, she confronted Haru about it, determined to get to the bottom of things.

It was a warm sunny day. Summer had arrived. She rowed out to the cove they had met at all those years ago. The cove was easy to reach by water but impossible to get to by land. In all the years Rin had been meeting with Haru at it, not a single soul had passed by.

“Why do you keep staring at me all the time?” she asked. Haru’s bluntness had rubbed off on her over the years.

“What do you mean?” Haru flicked her tail lazily where she floated. Haru often reminded Rin of the stray cats in her village. Like Haru they had mastered the art of elegant indifference.

“You’re always staring at me lately. Even now earlier when I was swimming you wouldn’t stop staring at me. Did I do something to offend you?”

Haru sank into the water until only her head was showing. She did that sometimes. It was disquieting when only her eyes showed. Rin had never quite figured out how Haru was able to breathe underwater. She didn’t have any gills.

“You haven’t done anything wrong. I just like looking at you, that’s all.”

Rin’s heart fluttered. Haru liked looking at her? What did that mean exactly? Was it a bad thing? She had used the word “like”—that meant it was a good thing, right? You generally didn’t “like” looking at things that made you unhappy, right?

“You like looking at me? Should I feel flattered? I’m not, of course.” That was a lie. The biggest lie she’d ever told. “Is it a good thing? Why do you like looking at me? Is there something wrong with my face?” She was struck with the sudden worry that in the time since she’d last looked in a mirror some hideous scar or mole had appeared on her face. Maybe she was simply ugly by mermaid standards. Haru was after all, more beautiful than any human Rin knew.

“There’s nothing wrong with your face, I think.” That sounded very much like there was something wrong with her face. “I just like looking at it, that’s all. Among other things.”

“Among other things? What does that mean?” Rin’s face was on fire. It wasn’t fair. Haru was the one saying embarrassing things, it should have been her turning bright red.

“Everything else. Your legs. Other areas.”

Rin wanted to hide her head underwater and swim away from Haru, but it was pointless since Haru was much faster than her—or any other human—and would have been able to see the blush on her face even in the darkest parts of the ocean.

“That’s—that’s—you—that’s embarrassing. I don’t stare at you.” That was a lie too. She stared at Haru often, when Haru wasn’t looking.

“You can if you want.” Rin’s heart stopped for a moment before speeding up, as though it was trying to escape her chest. Haru couldn’t be serious. There was no way she could just stare at Haru. What was Haru thinking?

“Okay,” Rin heard herself say.

Haru swam to the shore and waited for her on the sand, her face unperturbed. Rin’s legs wobbled as she made her way out of the water.

“So I’ll just stare at you then,” Rin said, flopping ungracefully onto the sand, splashing Haru as she landed.

“Yes, that’s fine.” Rin sensed there was something else Haru wanted.

“You can stare at me too, if you like,” she offered helpfully.

Haru nodded, pleased she’d understood her unsaid question.

Rin shifted nervously in the sand. This was the strangest situation she’d ever been in. She had free reign to stare at Haru and while that was terribly exciting it made her anxious to let Haru stare at her in return. She did her best to ignore Haru's watchful gaze. It was easier than she'd expected. Haru’s beauty was soon the only thing in her thoughts.  The scales on her tail glistened. They were a wonderful iridescent color. There were small patches of scales elsewhere on her body—her arms, her shoulders, her chest, her back, even her face—but her tail was what fascinated Rin the most. Rin’s legs had brushed against it before but she'd never properly touched it. Her hand hovered over it. She checked to see if it was okay with Haru. Haru nodded at her. Rin gently lowered her hand.

Her tail was smooth. There was almost no resistance as Rin slid her hand down the length of Haru’s tail, feeling the strength and muscle underneath. No wonder Haru was so fast in the water. The power in Rin’s thighs couldn’t even begin to compare to the power Haru had. The fins at the end of Haru’s tail had always looked fragile to Rin—they were not. Even with all her strength she doubted she could injure them in any way. That relieved her. She never wanted to see Haru hurt.

“Tickles.” Haru’s fins twitched when Rin experimentally tried running her nails down them.

“You can feel that?” Rin had expected it be like touching hair—where only tugging it brought any sensation.

“I can feeling everything,” said Haru.

Rin gulped. She wondered if perhaps she should stop. The atmosphere between them was thick with something she was afraid to name. Alarm bells rang in her head. She ignored them and brushed the scales on Haru’s sides. Her scales were softer the higher up she touched, softest of all where they met her skin. It made her skin seem rough in comparison. She brushed the smooth scales of Haru’s middle, carefully tracing scale after scale. Haru didn’t move, didn’t breathe, as Rin’s thumb circled a certain spot. There was something there, Rin realized. She pressed down. Haru’s scales began to give way. It was warm, shockingly warm, and—

“That’s enough.” Haru caught her hand. Her eyes had gone strange. Rin could barely see the blue of her irises.

“I’m sorry. I was—“ The words caught in her throat. She was what, exactly? Satisfying her curiosity? But why? She was afraid to know the answer.

“You shouldn’t touch me there,” she said, frustrated.

Rin nodded. Haru released her.

“Can I touch you elsewhere?” Rin didn’t understand where her boldness was coming from. If Haru rejected her she was sure she would fall to pieces. No one would be able to make her whole again.

Haru hesitated. She would not say yes. She was going to push Rin away. Rin had ruined everything. She had a crossed a line.

“You can touch me too,” Rin blurted out, hoping to appeal to Haru’s curiosity.

“Okay.”

The relief Rin felt didn’t last long. The thought of Haru touching her was terrifying. Almost as terrifying as how much she wanted her to.

She tensed up as Haru lifted her leg. She became fascinated with the back of Rin’s knee, sticking her arm between it. When she tried to pull it away, Rin bent her knee and trapped it there.

Rin laughed at Haru’s shocked expression and wriggled her toes against Haru’s tail. That seemed to shock Haru even more.

“Legs aren’t that different from arms, silly.”

“Hmph,” Haru scoffed, clearly not believing her.

Haru grabbed her foot. She tickled the bottom of it and Rin kicked her reflexively, apologizing for it a moment later. Haru didn’t seem to mind. She was fascinated by the way Rin could move her legs. Her eyes flashed each time she seemed to discover something new about the way they worked. It was cute. Haru was cute. Rin wanted to hug her. The tension from earlier was gone, replaced with something innocent. Until Haru reached her thighs.

Rin was wore only one article clothing—a simple pair of shorts held up with drawstring. It was how she dressed to dive. She thought nothing of it, not when Haru didn’t own any clothing at all. But it was different now that it seemed Haru want to explore every inch of her exposed flesh. Heat pooled between her legs as Haru stroked the inside of her thighs. She wanted to snap her legs shut but if she did Haru would question why. She didn't want to explain why. She didn't want to acknowledge the way her body melted under Haru's touch. It terrified her. To have feelings for Haru was bad enough but to be attracted to her, truly attracted to her when they weren't even the same species had to be wrong. She needed something to distract herself with. She reached out blindly, finding the scales on Haru’s shoulders, but Haru’s hand moved higher and higher and she panicked and did the last thing she should have—she cupped one of Haru’s exposed breasts.

Haru immediately seized up. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“You said I could touch you elsewhere.” That was not what Haru meant and they both knew it.

Haru sighed softly against her. “Don’t touch me where you wouldn’t touch a stranger,” she said.

“You’re not a stranger. I want to touch you.” She was still touching Haru’s breast in fact. It was probably clouding her judgement.

“You’re human. I’m not. This can’t happen.” Haru eyes pleaded with her to understand. Rin did understand—she just found herself not caring. Her body was reacting to Haru’s and that was all that seemed to matter at the moment.

“Is that your only objection?” Did Haru want to be touched? Did she feel the same desire coursing through her veins? She still hadn't pushed Rin’s hand away.

“I can’t take care of you when you’re on land. I can’t be by your side.”

“Then I’ll build a houseboat. I won’t return to the shore again.”

“You’re a fool,” she said it with affection.

“Do mermaids kiss?” Rin hoped they did.

“We do. But I’ve never—” Rin didn’t let her finish her sentence. She wrapped her arms around Haru—finally letting go of her chest—and brought her in for a kiss.

“I’ve never kissed anyone either. Until just now.” Rin giggled. She was nervous. Perhaps she shouldn’t have done that.

Haru’s mouth made a little circle. Slowly, but surely, a blush spread across her face. “You stole my first kiss,” she accused, “I don’t mind though. I’m glad.”

Haru rolled on top of her, kissing her. Their bodies seemed to melted together. Rin wrapped her legs around Haru’s smooth tale, the weight of it between her core made her hips sway with desire. Haru’s soft breasts pressed against her.

“Can I—can I touch you there again?” Rin was breathless from kissing.

Haru froze. “Do you understand what you’re asking?”

“Of course.” Rin frowned. “Do you not realize we’re the same? At least, I think we are.” They were both capable of feeling pleasure at least.

Haru rolled off of her. She stared at her quizzically. “Do you have a slit too? Is that what you’re hiding under that cloth?”

Rin bit her lip in amusement. “Sort of. I wouldn’t say it’s a slit.”

“It’s exposed?” The absolute horror in her voice made Rin laugh out loud.

“I’m not a man. I—I’ll show you.” She bit her lip and untied the drawstring around her shorts. She slipped them off slowly, avoiding Haru’s eyes as she did. She took her time to fold them and place them out of reach from the waves, not wanting them to get washed away by the tide. She was utterly exposed. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. Haru watched her every action—surely she had seen everything already—but Rin kept her legs crossed when she sat back down, suddenly feeling shy.

If Haru noticed her shyness, she chose not to comment on it. Instead she went back to kissing Rin. Rin slowly calmed down. Her heart had been racing from adrenaline.

“You can touch me now,” Haru said. It sounded less like permission and more like a demand.

Rin pressed her scales once more until she found the place where they gave way. A wet warmth enveloped her finger. She didn’t know where to touch, she didn’t understand how Haru’s body worked. She added a second finger and spread them apart inside of Haru. Haru buckled against her. She pushed down with her palm. Haru whimpered.

“Can I try something?” Rin asked.

Haru nodded. Get on with it, her eyes seemed to say.

Rin had no idea if it would do anything for Haru. But she was curious, desperately curious, to know what Haru tasted like. She spread Haru’s slit apart and licked the exposed pink flesh that appeared. Haru cried out at the contact.

She tasted like the ocean. Salt and fish and something Rin couldn’t put a name on. She sucked on the small bud at the top of her slit. Haru’s eyes were wild and dark, like before. She kept sucking on her, adding her fingers back in to press down inside of Haru.

“Rin, don’t stop. It feels good.”

Rin kept licking her, sucking her, not stopping until Haru climaxed.

It was the first time she’d seen Haru’s breathing labored. Nothing until now had ever tired her, ever made her gasp for air. Still she caught her breath much faster than a human would have. She kissed Rin, their tongues swirling together. Rin was sure Haru could taste herself on Rin.

An idea had been forming in Rin’s head since she first felt Haru’s tail. The smoothness of it would make it easy to slide on, not painful in the slightest.

“Can I—“

“—try something? Go ahead. I’ve liked all your ideas so far,” Haru purred, once again reminding Rin more of a cat than the half-fish she really was.

Rin seated herself on Haru’s tail. The cool, slippery texture of it pressed against the warmth between her legs. She grinded against it, putting all her weight into it, knowing Haru could take it. She was already breathing as hard as Haru had at the end of her release. She clenched herself around Haru’s tail, gasping at the sensation. Haru watched her, curious at first, until she understood what Rin was doing. When she did, she moved her tail, swayed her hips, anything to add to Rin’s pleasure. One of her hands played with Rin’s erect nipples, pinching them, flicking them, rubbing them between her fingers, while her other hand touched Rin anywhere, everywhere else.

“Does it feel good, Rin? To rub against me?” Her voice was filled with curiosity.

“It does. Your so smooth, Haru. It’s so easy.” She couldn’t imagine anything easier, anything better, than Haru’s tail pressing against her clit.

"I like watching you, Rin. I’m always looking at you because you’re so beautiful. You have so many expressions. I think this one is already one of my favorites."

Rin cried out. Haru’s confession had pushed her over the edge. She heard herself call out Haru’s name as the first waves of pleasure rolled through her.

When it was over, she collapsed against Haru’s chest. It would take her a while to collect herself, to stop struggling for air. Haru brushed a hand through her hair. She shivered. She wanted to stay like this. She sensitive to where their bodies connected.

”Haru, I like you. I want to be with you. I don’t think it matters if I’m human and you’re not.” They would find a way. Rin really would move into a houseboat if she had to. She didn’t care. Maybe she would build a small cottage here at the cove. The possibilities were endless. She had never felt happier to be a diver. To have a reason to spend her days in the sea.

Haru held her tightly. “I don’t want you to give up your life for me.”

Rin lifted her head and met Haru’s eyes. “I’m never more alive than when I’m with you. I wouldn’t be giving up anything.”

Haru eyes lit up. She was beautiful. Rin wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to never leave her side. “We’ll find a way then,” she said, as if reading Rin’s mind.