Work Text:
Rin didn't exactly dislike sweets.
He used to like the syrupy aftertaste of the energy drinks his brother left half-finished in the fridge—sneaking sips when no one was looking. Cake was fine, though usually too sweet for his liking. Dentist visits were a chore but survivable.
Hard candy, however, was a different story.
It lingered too long. Rin didn't have the patience for that kind of commitment. Crushing it between his teeth was always a gamble, sometimes sharp enough to sting. And when it stuck to the ridges of his morals—
Unforgivable.
SCHLUP—slrp—SCHLICK.
His ear twitched.
A wet pop followed. Silence. Then another long, deliberate suck.
The vein at his temple pulsed in warning.
A chair scraped against the floor–too sudden, too loud.
Then came the hiss of someone trying to push it back without drawing attention. From the edge of his vision, he saw a hand holding the chair steady, easing it into place.
A whisper:
"I need to go now. Email me where the next meeting will be."
Two thumbs up were raised, then a shake of a head sent ridiculous tufts of hair bouncing around. When the student passed behind Rin, the faintest scent of lemon lingered in the air. But the smell didn't belong to the one leaving.
It belonged to the one still sitting across from him.
The faint footsteps disappeared.
The library felt even quieter than before.
Rin focused —or tried to— on the lines of his pen. His bangs hung low enough to brush his lashes, but he could still see through them.
He remembered Sae's unimpressed expression, the slow arch of an eyebrow before he muttered, "emo bangs."
Fucker.
He noticed the fingers first —drumming lightly against the table's edge, a little twitch of energy in the silence— then stillness.
"Can I touch your hair, Rin-chan?"
"No."
"But I want to confirm something."
"Shut up and keep working."
Another slurp.
A moment of silence.
Then that lemon scent again—stronger, closer.
Rin lifted his eyes.
They met the roots of short, dark bangs across from him.
"Your handwriting is presistent, Rin-chan," Bachira murmured, head tilted, pop cut bangs swaying slightly.
"But not elegant."
Rin scowled at the stupid root of that fringe.
The urge to yank it was strong.
He didn't.
"Stop playing around."
Bachira flopped back into his seat across the table with a soft plop, giving Rin room to breath again. The candy shifted in his cheek, puffing it out.
Then out of nowhere:
"let's be friends, Rin-chan."
"No. And stop adding -chan."
Bachira stood.
Rin almost sighed in relief—thought maybe he was finally gathering his things and leaving.
But the boy only slipped from his peripheral view... and reappeared at his side.
The lemon scent hit stronger this time. Sharp. Sugary.
Too close.
Rin tilted his head slightly.
And there they were—those eyes. Bright yellow. Offbeat. Too much.
"Want to try it?"
Bachira suggested, wiggling the candy on his tongue—somehow managing not to drop it.
Rin indulged the ridiculous display for a second longer than he should've, before dismissing flatly,
"If you're done, you can leave."
He returned to his notes. Or tried to.
He wasn't sure what he was writing anymore.
A soft pop—the candy left Bachira's mouth. "It helps you relax, you know. You seem very restrained, Rin-chan."
"If you leave, I'll be fine."
"I'm afraid you'll pop the wrong vein and die."
"If you stay here, surely."
"Talking with people reduces the chances of sudden death."
Dead serious. Like he read it in a pamphlet.
Rin had to look at him for that one. "That information is extremely false."
Bachira grinned. Wide. Lips soft and glistening, stretched obnoxiously across his face.
Idiot.
His hand reached Rin's head, and Rin instinctively leaned away, but Bachira was faster—already twirling a strand of his bangs between his fingers.
"It looked soft," Bachira hummed, "but I didn't expect it to actually be this soft."
Rin jerked his head back, the lock slipping free from Bachira's hand.
"You can touch my hair too," Bachira offered, tilting his head invitingly.
"I don't want to."
"You really need one of those candies, Rin-chan. Your veins are about to explode."
Rin scowled, tapping the tip of his pen hard against the paper.
"Stop saying weird things."
Bachira leaned in slightly, resting an elbow on the table, candy balanced lazily between his lips again.
"It's not weird, it's considerate. Lemon calms the nerves."
He spoke with that mock-innocent smile that meant nothing but trouble.
"Then eat two and leave me alone."
"But sharing is caring."
The candy popped out again, wet and glistening, held between Bachira's fingers now.
He held it up, halfway between them.
"Just one lick, Rin-chan."
"Will you leave me alone?"
"Sure."
Bachira's smirk was smug, glib—full of lies. So Rin leaned forward and took the candy straight from his fingers, lips brushing just briefly. He ignored the look on Bachira's face and went right back into scribbling, the ink now a shaky, half-legible mess across the page.
"I've been sucking on that for a while now," Bachira said, the satisfaction in his voice audible. "Pretty sure you know that."
Rin hummed, the lemon candy sharp and cool against his tongue. It was refreshing. Too sweet, maybe, but crisp. Still, the urge to bite down on it buzzed under his teeth—an old habit. That, and the other urge. The one that wasn't about the candy at all.
Bachira looked dangerously pleased.
"You're more interesting than you let on, Rin-chan. Aren't you?"
"I fulfilled your wish. Now keep your promise and leave me."
Rin tried to sound flat, unaffected. He barely managed the words with the candy still in his mouth. It clacked against his teeth mid-sentence, and he wondered—how the hell did Bachira talk like that so easily? It had to be a skill. One of many, apparently.
A soft tap came against the table. Then a fingertip pressed into his cheek, right where it bulged with the sweet.
"But that was my last one," Bachira pouted, fake and dramatic. "How am I supposed to entertain myself walking home alone?"
"Not my problem."
Bachira leaned forward slightly, his shoulder brushing against Rin's as he rested his chin on his palm.
"You know," he began, the corner of his lips curling, "some people say sharing saliva doesn't count as a real kiss."
Rin didn't look at him. "Those people are idiots."
"But think about it," Bachira continued, undetrred, "lollipops, straws, drinks—technically it's not a kiss, no lips touching, just friendly oral exchange."
"Stop talking."
"It's science," Bachira grinned. "Something about shared bacteria, intimacy."
Rin's eyes narrowed, still fixed on his paper. "That's a reach."
Bachira glanced sideways, watching the lemon candy shift faintly behind Rin's lips. "But really," he continued, softer this time, "they said it's not just about the germs for people to count indirect kisses when they couldn't be bold enough for the real thing."
Rin stopped for a second, his pen hesitating mid-stroke.
"Is that so?" He muttered, trying not to sound caught of guard.
"Mhm," Bachira hummed, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. "But I don't get it. If you're going to share a candy or a lollipop, why not just kiss instead? Less sticky. More direct."
Rin turned his head, slowly. Their faces were too close for comfort or logic.
"You say the dumpest things," he said quietly, though his voice lacked its usual bite.
Bachira didn't back off. He tilted his head, yellow eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"Maybe," he said, voice dropping, "but you're still holding that lemon in your mouth."
Rin crushed the candy.
It cracked sharp between his teeth. Sour juice hit the back of his tongue, stuck under his morals. The taste didn't fade.
"You should've savored it more," Bachira said, not lifting his head from his palm.
Rin shut his notebook. His jaw shifted as he tried to move the candy shard from where it was caught.
"It's stuck between my teeth now."
Bachira hummed. A small sound, amused maybe. Their knees brushed under the table. Rin didn't move.
He turned, just slightly—and Bachira was close, with his lashes lowered. Still wearing that same look like he know something Rin didn't.
Rin leaned in and kissed him.
The corner of Bachira's lips was sticky—sweet, faintly sour. It wasn't much different from licking that candy he'd just crushed between his teeth. He didn't linger. Just bit gently at Bachira's lower lip before pulling back. Like a warning or a mark.
Bachira's short bangs brushed against his cheeks, itchy and light. Rin pulled away, with a quiet, wet sound still clinging between them.
The taste was stronger now, pressed in. Lemon and spit and a bit of heat.
Bachira blinked slow, then smiled.
Rin didn't return it. He just said, flatly. "It's still stuck."
Bachira grinned wider. "Want another one?"
"Shut up."
Rin picked up his pen again, then set it down.
The lemon was still there. Faint, annoying, clingy.
Fuck.