breakthru

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39778419.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Free!
Relationship: Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka
Character: Matsuoka Rin, Nanase Haruka, Azuma Ryuuji, Nitori Mikhail
Makarovich
Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, okay there is a tiiiiiny bit of plot. if you
squint, Fluff, First Time, Semi-Public Sex, dw they get a room (literally),
sap sap sapppp, Intercrural Sex, post-road to the world
Stats: Published: 2022-06-21 Words: 4150

breakthru
by clemjuu

Summary

"As it always was, as it was always meant to be, they touched the wall together."

(Or: what happens when you stop trying to escape the inescapable.)

Notes

...........hhahahahhahahahhahahahahaha.

The phrase "locker room fantasy" got stuck into my head. so, in keeping with, y'know, the
natural order of things, here's something very self indulgent for all of you!

the title is from Queen's "Breakthru".

comments appreciated........i will make soup for everyone......yes i will

do enjoy. as always, i'm on twitter at @/everbluemelody to talk rinharus :3

“Haru! Haru, that was amazing!”

Rin had hooked an arm around Haru’s neck. Their loud camaraderie echoed around the room, all
the way up to the curved ceiling, as they neared the tunnel to the lockers.

“Yeah.”

“We touched at the same time! We did it again! And your strokes towards the end, they…”

The fact that this was “just training” didn’t seem to matter; it had happened again, this odd
synthesis of man with water, man with man. Like some grotesque beast of chlorine and spandex
had fused from churned pool water, something to fear. Well. Azuma feared them no more than he
found them both infuriating. To Haru, though, this was … it was a do-over of his last year of high
school, with Rin all happy and fluttery again, just without the stirred up future shit. No: it was Rin
of days past, green gilets, ice lollies, sukiyaki, compacted and refined into maddening strength.
This Rin was so fully himself that his presence alone was a challenge. Meaning that, more than
ever, Haru wished he had the physical means to speak back to Rin beyond high fives (easy) or
invisibly nuzzling into one of their rare embraces. Today, though …

Any more wishing and Haru would make himself sick. Bad, nightmarish things bred in stagnant
water. Chlorine could treat and fix a pool, though its efforts ended at being chemical. There was a
point where the water demanded far more. It was on you, the inhabitant, to make something of
what evolves within it, then, naturally, what manages to crawl out. This process was no different to
the salty, airy wild when bracketed by linoleum and sponsor presence. Thus, Haru’s stubbornness
had no reason to stay impenetrable – this was something he had learned, striving so badly to
balance existing in the competitive world and being able to breathe in it. He’d made this world for
himself because of Rin. When he broke for air, it was Rin’s air as much as his; Haru’s individual
place was certain, it was more that he felt this longing to acknowledge Rin as much as possible. Up
to now, the touching had been Rin’s thing, which was a ridiculous breach of this no stones left
unturned approach.

So, slightly, Haru tucked himself closer against Rin’s side. They had reached the changing room
now and Rin still hadn’t let go. If this wasn’t a sign… Fuck it. Haru reached for the broadness of
Rin’s abdomen, his waist weirdly delicate, dipping Rin into a space in the wall between two
lockers. There was a vinyl on the wall of a diver breaking the water’s surface, which didn’t matter
because Rin was covering it with his shoulders, Haru was covering Rin with his body—

“Haru… What if…”

Haru passed his fingertips over Rin’s hip, a fleeting touch as light as the stifled pants passing
between them. Shit, Rin hadn’t even fully taken off his goggles yet. This didn’t seem to bother
Haru, who had now clasped both hands around Rin’s back, who was stepping further into his space
and smirking dangerously.

“Wait, wait, Haru,” Rin half-exhaled, eyes wide and incredulous, “Why—Is this—”

“I’m just telling you, Rin, this isn’t an adrenaline thing. I want to kiss you.”

“Haru…”

“Since before this. A while… But I just decided I want to do it now.”

“Och—Haru!”

Rin quivered. For someone so broad, he suddenly appeared as if shrunken inside himself. His fists
were braced at his sides; Haru wondered if that might be because he was restraining himself. Rin
didn’t hold back in the water – why should he, here? Struck with inspiration, Haru tipped his chin
up and pressed his lips to the crease of Rin’s mouth in a tiny, lingering kiss, steadying himself with
a hand now on Rin’s shoulder. When Rin didn’t smile the first time, Haru did it again, slowly, eyes
fluttering closed.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Rin muttered, and grabbed Haru roughly by the waist to kiss him.

So, this was, like, a thing now.

The second time was two days later. They hadn’t raced, although Rin besting his fly time had them
both charged up; as much as it was Rin’s victory, it was Haru’s, which he aimed to prove through
pushing Rin to a shower wall and kissing him silly. The lick of fire – pride – in Rin’s eyes taunted
Haru through his goggles the whole time he was demolishing that final spurt, and knowing that,
just maybe, he could get in close to that heat was driving him nuts.

Today, however, Rin had other ideas, barely crossing the threshold of the locker rooms before
putting a knee between Haru’s legs and kissing him full on the mouth. It was stiff and Haru hoped
Rin would move, though their closeness almost made up for it. Rin’s hands contrasted his firm
kisses, so easily drifting over Haru’s spine into his hair, the lightest of touches.

Best of all…

Rin was smiling. Grinning stupidly. Haru couldn’t resist the urge to peck at Rin’s cheeks, the skin
under his eyes, the tip of his nose, watching that smile grow endlessly wider. That unmoving grin
being the reason for Rin’s poor kissing technique was more than okay, in Haru’s books. Pride
swirled into tenderness: Rin flushed madly at the tiny sounds Haru’s lips made as they skipped
across his skin, unable to resist the shapes Rin’s smiling face made, an image of victory.

“Haru, you’re weird as ever, huh…” Rin murmured, any bite fiercely undercut by the giggles he
had to push through to speak. It was so easy, being like this, his arms looped around Haru’s lower
back as they kissed, bodies flush—

--oh.

“Can I touch it?” Haru said, as if he was ordering food. Rin looked down at his very obvious boner
as if trying to laser it off with his eyes. No way had this happened from kissing. Fuck Haru for that.
Maybe not here. Damnit … Rin made a gargled sound, reminding Haru of choking on a piece of
mackerel he’d failed to properly skin. But then Haru pushed his own hips just slightly forward, and
Rin’s lips fell open around a moan, his grip on Haru’s waist tightening. “Fuck, Haru, obviously.”

That fire had spread to Haru’s eyes, burning frenzied blue. He quickly kissed Rin’s cheek for the
billionth time, then pressed the heel of his palm to Rin’s cock, hard and wrenched painfully to the
side by the tightness of his legskins. When Rin breathed, hard, Haru dragged his palm up, lightly
squeezing his fingers around his tip. Rin’s head fell to Haru’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re really turned on, Rin,” Haru observed, quietly awed. He felt he had every right to be,
watching something like this fall into place.

“GAH—Haru, of course I’m—shit, do that again,” Rin tried to say, except Haru had found his tip
again and had rubbed it twice over with his thumb, infuriatingly lightly. Haru was panting; Rin was
rutting forwards, desperate for friction, drunk on Haru’s touch. One of Haru’s hands was
massaging Rin’s nape, alternating between making firm circles with his fingers and tugging at the
hair that fell there. He’d always wanted to play with Rin’s hair, to see how Rin would react when
he pulled it – his answer was Rin moaning obscenely, despite his restrained volume. How either of
them had managed to maintain the slightest bit of location-appropriate decorum, Haru was unsure.
The quiet sound went straight to Haru’s dick, and when Rin’s hand joined it by some miracle,
slipping beneath his waistband, Rin’s phone rang.

Idiot calling. Idiot calling. Idiot calling, please pick up.

The ringtone he’d set for Sousuke. Sousuke. Rin’s best friend, Sousuke, and the dinner-games-
catchup he was apparently… oh God, half an hour late for. Matsuoka Rin was never late. He
jumped back, Haru looking disconcerted and painfully turned on. The phone call was brief and
littered with muffled expletives. Haru sat on a bench, feeling a bit silly as he pulled on his tracksuit
bottoms.

“Haru, I’m so sorry. Shit…”

Haru shook his head, standing and coming to Rin to squeeze his hand. “It’s fine. Just…text me
later, ‘kay?”

“…Okay, Haru. Let’s walk to the station together?”

“Sure.”

-
Fifty-love.

The sound of a running tap, a scraping fork, the faint rustle of Haru moving through his apartment.
It was a muggy evening, so the windows were open. He’d eaten on the balcony, cross-legged for a
lack of furniture, then, restless, he’d found a livestream of some tennis. Tennis was a dry, tame
sport, with too much distance between its competitors. It probably took a lot of water to make the
tennis pitches, but none of it was visible – for Haru, right now, this was necessary action to keep
him from thinking of earlier. In a scene from a dream, with Rin in his arms, Rin hard because of
him…this was something he needed to numb his mind against, because just thinking about it made
him burn up. The lower regions of Haru’s stomach curled, slow and heavy; the player on-screen
took a swig, tossing his water bottle aside and shaking himself out before his opponent.

Haru leaned back into the floor, steadying his breathing. There was a damp stain tickling the far
corner of his ceiling that had been here since he moved in. There was no sound, none, that could
possibly appease how, quite simply, Haru wanted to see Rin smile all the time. He wanted to touch
Rin, and be touched, for Rin to giggle and wrap his arm round his shoulders. Best of all, they’d
actually reached this point of closeness, spurred on by the proximity to their dream; a dream which,
Haru had long since realised, involved them, together. And Rin’s kisses, his phone calls, his airy
silliness around Haru, his times, for God’s sake – all these things confirmed to Haru that Rin felt it,
too. It was all, at the end of the day, inescapable.

Then, two knocks on the door – likely Makoto, not Makoto. Rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes,
Haru registered Rin, grinning, dressed in a vest and loose joggers. Seeing him so comfortable and
casual made Haru’s heart swell with love and the urge to wrap Rin up in a duvet, holding him so
close… not now. Haru spoke, perfectly composed.

“You said you’d text.”

“Uh, yeah, but I came instead. Let me in,” Rin said, letting himself in, ruffling Haru’s hair on the
way past.

“Sure. Is Sousuke okay?”

Rin turned to Haru, dumping his duffel bag on the floor and smiling. “Yeah! We played Smash and
shit-talked people from his classes. It was awesome. He sends his well wishes to you, Haru.”

“I’m not sick,” Haru responded, quietly warmed by the care Sousuke had for him as of late. He
moved Rin’s bag to a more sensible spot tucked close to the wall, gesturing for his guest to sit on
the bed.
“Figure of speech, Haru! Jeez.”

Haru came to join him, sitting close and looking at the floor.

“Tennis, huh… We losing our anchor already?” Rin said, too quietly for the joke to fully land. Rin
was fidgety, which unnerved Haru. So, he silently reached behind Rin to snap shut the laptop,
wanting to look at him fully. This was no different to the locker rooms – Rin should be all over him
right now. In theory, at least. When Haru leaned back, his hand lingered on Rin’s back, thumb
rhythmically stroking the skin between his shoulder blades.

“No,” Haru’s gaze turned serious, commanding Rin’s attention, “You’re not losing me. So…don’t
worry any more about that. What did you come here for, Rin?”

“Haru! God, am I not allowed to check up on my friends?”

But Rin didn’t pull back. His eyes were warm, their heat somehow waning. Haru knew he was
waiting for him to take responsibility, to chase him into this unknown, something made harder by
their distance from the pool. This was not something Haru saw as a problem: with Rin, the pool
was endless, always something on the horizon for them both. To that end, the smaller moments
were of equal significance in this great, world-expanding dream of theirs. He just wished Rin
would share in that confidence, instead of seeing them as something that could o r might happen,
existing only in the tiniest slips in time when they had a moment to burn off adrenaline between
lockers. Haru knew otherwise.

“We should make out,” Haru said, after a long moment. Rin shuddered beside him, goosebumps
spreading under Haru’s hand where it still rested on his skin. That was exactly it – that gruesome
lack of confidence in the inevitability of them. Because of course Haru was amazed. It was the
most obvious thing in the world, seeing Rin and wanting to have him close.

“Yeah. We should,” Rin breathed out despite everything, twisting his shoulders so he faced Haru.
Haru braced one hand on the bed and leaned in, the other coming to cradle Rin’s pale cheek. In the
heady warmth of Haru’s apartment, this comfortable, softened Rin was impossible not to kiss; Haru
was overcome with the desire to show Rin the vision of confidence and joy he saw in him, to
squash his nonsensical insecurities for good, as he leaned forward to steadily slot their lips
together. Rin’s lips were soft, clearly looked after, gentle and warm as they moved minutely
against Haru’s. Delicate, like the rest of Rin and especially like Rin’s face, the pink across his
cheeks flourishing beneath Haru’s hand.
Rin hummed, maintaining their closeness as he shifted to face Haru fully. In contrast to their hasty
locker-room tumbles, this was insanely tentative. It would be so easy for Haru to surge against Rin,
to elaborate on the whole boner thing, but between them there was a mutual desire to slow things
down. They were so fast all the time in the water — on land, Haru got to stroke his thumb
reassuringly over Rin’s cheek, humming reverently as Rin failed to hold back a smile — this Rin,
bright and satiny beneath him, was a luxury the water could not afford to him. After all, it was Rin
who transformed things through presence alone: first the water, that brightness then flooding
Haru’s whole world, spreading endlessly. Haru dared to part his lips, opening Rin’s mouth along
with them and sighing contentedly, hands now clasped behind Rin’s neck.

“I’m so happy right now, Haru,” Rin whispered into Haru’s mouth, “I could be dreaming. Fuck.” A
kiss to Haru’s cheek. “You’ve always … taken care of me like this.” A slow, open-mouthed kiss to
Haru’s jaw. “Even when you don’t realise it, having you there ahead of me is so…”

“Rin…” Haru’s best response was wrapping his arms fully around Rin’s shoulders and pushing
him to the mattress, nuzzling his head into Rin’s chest and delighting in how easily Rin returned
the embrace. For a moment, they held each other, a wonderfully indulgent way for them both to
catch their breath: even then, the sheer closeness of the moment had Haru struggling to function. “I
always think about looking after you like this,” Haru managed to murmur, delivering a slow kiss to
Rin’s neck for emphasis. He placed his palms on either side of Rin’s head and heaved himself up
for a better view of his face. Rin’s lips were swollen and parted, shining faintly. He looked
irresistible like this: breathing deeply, eyes dazed yet vivid. Being looked at so fondly made Haru
ache all over, down to his toes.

“Mm…Haru, me too, I want to look after you too,” Rin said, pulling Haru on top of him with an
arm around his lower back. Then, with a giggle: “Why do you think I send all those recipes, hm?”

These words— all of Rin overwhelmed Haru, easing through his brain like searing honey. That
wasn’t it. It was more like Rin could change the structure of his blood, making it thick and viscous,
solidifying around one central mantra: thinking about anything other than Rin, Rin, Rin was
impossible, not when Rin’s hand was inviting itself beneath Haru’s t-shirt and Haru was pushing
his groin down with a whine, opening his mouth against Rin’s all over again, slipping his tongue
into its warmth. Haru quickly learned how much he adored licking around Rin’s mouth, the
wetness becoming addictive. He wanted all of Rin, from inside-out. And, judging by the hardness
against Haru’s thigh, Rin shared this sentiment.

It felt wrong to move away but Haru did so, knowing he’d get to see more of Rin if he forced
himself off. Deft hands found the worn out elastic of Rin’s sweatpants, slipping them down past
his shaven thighs and over his feet. Already, Rin bucked into the touch: Haru’s cold fingers, whilst
wonderful against his legs, were wanted much more where he now strained against his boxers.

“Rin. Can I touch you?” Haru asked, stroking over Rin’s knee with his thumb, perhaps to ground
himself. (Naturally, he found no hair there.) Rin covered Haru’s hand with his fingers, squeezing it:
“Of course, if you’re sure.”

And Haru was so sure. He curled his fingers around Rin’s dick firmly, revelling in his uninhibited
sounds at the slightest bit of contact. “You sound amazing, Rin. Make more.”

“Nnn… You’re so embarrassing, Haru…Haru…” Rin gargled, coherency long gone. Haru took
pity on him, pulling his boxers down to touch his dick properly. Rin was hard. Haru barely stifled
his groan at the sight of it. He could already feel the burgeoning wetness through his own pants:
still, for Rin’s sake, he reached down to stroke his cock once, twice, keeping a pace so careful that
it was almost cruel.

“Not embarrassing. You’re just…” Haru’s breath got stuck at the sight of Rin from this angle: his
dick bright pink, leaking tentatively, his forearm thrown over his mouth. Beautiful. Realising he
might have been gripping Rin a little too tightly, Haru sat back on his knees. There was no use
trying to collect himself, but there was definitely merit in pushing forward.

In races, Rin was almost predatory. His strokes discarded the water like it was nothing compared to
Haru. This chase was a matter of Rin finding prey and sinking his teeth into it, pulling away with a
chunk of flesh. Haru saw himself between Rin’s smiling teeth when Rin tore his cap from his head
and smashed it through the pool’s surface. He wanted to feel that again, to let Rin devour him, and
to finally show his appreciation in return.

“I’m what, Haru? Is everything okay?” Rin said, going dead still. Haru leaned down to kiss him
slowly, working his tongue inside again. Rin relaxed instantly, driving his hands down to roughly
squeeze Haru’s ass. One of Haru’s palms spread wide over Rin’s chest, kneading the left side
slowly and flicking the hard nipple there with his thumb. Rin groaned, low and shaky, so Haru did
it again before ducking his chin out of the kiss to speak.

“Rin,” Haru began, dead serious, “Fuck me like you just won.”

It was likely that Haru’s boxers had landed somewhere in the kitchen region — whatever. Rin’s
teeth were scraping at his collarbone, then they were at the collar of his shirt, tugging down as one
of his hands angled Haru’s head to properly look: Rin, eyes hungry, taut fabric between his teeth
whilst the other hand palmed his cock. “Off,” Haru had managed, Rin obliging with a sweet peck to
Haru’s cheek. When they moved to kiss again, they were both naked. Haru gasped at the feeling of
Rin’s nipples prodding his own, as if the feeling of their dicks rubbing together wasn’t enough. Rin
smirked into the kiss before ducking his head to bite down on Haru’s lower lip, hard.

“AAAHH– Rin, Rin, please–” Haru squirmed, arching his back out of desperation for the tiniest
amount of friction down below, where all of his blood seemed to be rushing to. Amazingly, this
Rin giggled at Haru’s moans, his gaze somehow filled with both acute hunger and warm fondness.
Their foreheads bumped, and just for a second, there was quiet as they stared, taking in this new
sight.

“You look alright,” Rin whispered, any sarcasm lost to the gentle way he cradled Haru’s cheeks,
“though, I have to admit, I was half expecting some kind of weird fish-dick down there…”

Haru’s eyes lit up. “Amazing.”

“FUCK NO, Haru. God, don’t make me think about fish dick when we’re about to have sex…”

“We’re about to have sex?” Haru said, eyes glittering blue. Rin spluttered. What else did he expect
from being intimate with Haru … Nothing less, he supposed, than this – the hottest guy he’d ever
met also happening to be the weirdest. Still, Rin delivered a teasing stroke to their aching cocks
where they were pressed together between them. “Uh, duh. Haru, since we’re training tomorrow –
uh. Lay on your side?”

“Nn,” Haru hummed, making himself comfortable against the crisp white of his duvet. One hand
gripped the sheet, the other drifted to his cock, gently palming himself as Rin shuffled to spoon
behind him. Understanding Rin’s thought process – ever sensible, he’d accounted for their
training, of course he had – Haru squeezed his thighs together. Rin’s breaths were impossibly hot,
tucked into his neck. He nipped Haru’s earlobe once, twice, moving to kiss the delicate spot just
behind it as he pushed the head of his cock between Haru’s thighs.

“Stop holding back,” Haru breathed out, his strokes quickening. Rin gasped, hips involuntarily
jerking forward. Hearing Haru like this was … there were no words to describe it, but there was
swatting his hand away from his dick and lifting his own fingers to Haru’s mouth, pushing them
between his lips. Almost instantly, Haru whined, his neck tipping back as he got to work,
alternating between lapping at the skin between Rin’s fingers and sucking them in down to their
knuckles. Once Haru’s tongue had sufficiently coated his fingers, Rin forced himself to withdraw
his hand so it could be where Haru needed it most, if the pre-come dribbling onto his stomach was
indication enough. It was overwhelming, to see Haru like this. To see tangible proof that he wasn’t
only capable of making a mess. Well – as far as emotional messes go. Because Haru, who
genetically avoided the appearance of post-race exertion, was flushed and slick and it was Rin’s
fault. Rin’s fault that he felt good and fulfilled and deserving of pleasure. At this revelation, a warm
feeling tumbled through Rin’s chest, enveloping it enough to quell the dull, constant sort of
anxious static.

No – everything was clear. This was so, so right. Perhaps there was never really any use in trying to
escape the inescapable.

Rin started to speed up his thrusts, jerking Haru off in time with them. Seeing his cock swallowed
between Haru’s firm, lean thighs was mesmerising. Haru was mesmerising, abdomen twitching as
he tucked his hips further back in an attempt to increase the friction against his taint.

“Aahhh… RIN…” Haru near-yelled, his voice breaking. Then, much more softly:

“I love you, Rin, haaahh…”

Rin paused, jaw slack, but Haru wouldn’t have it. He grabbed Rin by the shoulders, flipping them
over, then straddled him, leaning down to kiss him sweetly, rolling his groin against Rin’s, slotting
them perfectly together.

“Haruka,” Rin whispered, reluctantly releasing Haru’s bottom lip from between his own, “you
dummy. I love you so much.”

Pool eyes.

Fucking pool eyes.

Haru started to grind faster, met halfway by Rin. Their breaths mixed where their mouths refused to
part; Rin’s hands were in Haru’s hair, holding him down. Haru’s movements became almost
animal as he snapped his hips faster, bringing one of his hands between them to stroke them
roughly until, as it always was, as it was always meant to be, they touched the wall together.
-

“Okay, kids. Your forms are both lacking today. Since this doesn’t happen often… Mikhail?”
Azuma began gruffly, arms crossed, frown severe as his black trench coat. Haru offhandedly
wondered if he wore it inside for impact.

“Yes. You’re going to watch this video from Worlds a few years back. Lane 4, the American guy
with the thighs. Nanase, eyes on his kicks after the turn. Matsuoka, watch his recovery in his
strokes.”

“What Mikhail said,” Azuma trailed off into a yawn, “We’ll be back in ten to discuss. Got it?”

“Got it,” Haru answered, closing his eyes and lowering himself into Rin’s lap, humouring Azuma
with a hand outstretched for the tablet. Rin chuckled, shifting on his own plastic chair to
accommodate Haru’s head, brushing the wet hair from his forehead. “Yes, Coach.”

“…Jesus Christ. Well, okay. We’re leaving now.”

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