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Summary
Rin swipes at his eyes and blinks hard, only to find that no, that voice, that face, that body in yesterday’s boxer-briefs is not a hangover-induced hallucination. Isagi Fucking Yoichi is actually in Rin’s apartment, on his bed, sporting bruised bitemarks on his shoulders and thighs and—God, is that one on his hip, too? He’s in Rin’s bed; Occam’s Razor, clearly Rin put them there.
To sum it up, they’d fucked.
He and Isagi.
What a disaster.