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When they’re thirteen, they have a sleepover at Makoto’s house.
They go there right after swimming club, hairs wet, not enough of the chlorine washed off. They play video games all afternoon. Nagisa is delighted to meet Makoto’s one year old twin siblings, but for some unknown reason they cling to Rin, who looks overwhelmed and helpless, each twin attached to one of his legs. They eat dinner. They have to turn in at nine and turn the lights off, talk quietly so they won’t disturb the babies.
Rin is whispering about some girl in their class who has a crush on Makoto. Matoko’s red face is made visible by the light coming from a lamppost right outside his window.
“Will you ask her out?” Rin finally asks. Nagisa, giggling, eyes Makoto expectantly.
Makoto shakes his head. “She’s a nice girl, but I don’t like her.”
“Who do you like, then?” inquires Rin, grinning his most curious grin.
Makoto’s eyes flick to Haruka for a second, but he averts them, blushing.
“No one,” he answers, and Rin arches an eyebrow doubtfully but lets it slide.
“What about you, Haru?” he asks instead, turning his smile on Haruka.
Haru tsks, turns his face away.
“Haru-chan only likes the water, Rin-chan,” Nagisa pouts.
“Really,” goes Rin, prolonging the a like he doesn’t believe Nagisa to be right at all. He narrows his eyes, cocks his head wonderingly. “Do you like girls, Haru?”
Rin’s tone is innocent, merely curious, with a bit of trepidation underneath it. He doesn’t mean anything by it, he really only wants to know.
“I do!” Nagisa chirps, answering a question he was not asked.
Haruka thinks. He doesn’t spend a lot of time with girls. The ones at school mostly talk to Makoto, the ones at the swimming club to Nagisa. He used to play with a couple of girls in his neighborhood, sisters, but he doesn’t anymore.
Girls, though. All the girls he knows smell nice. They all look soft, too, and have pretty eyes. But when Rin asks if he likes girls, Haruka knows he means would Haru like to kiss girls, and hold hands with girls, and date girls. He can’t say he does.
“I don’t think I do, no,” he finally answers, frowning only slightly. He had never stopped to think about it, but he supposes it’s not that big of a deal.
There’s a moment of silence.
“Do you like boys, then?” Rin asks, his voice breaking a little. Haru’s frown deepens.
“I do, too!” Nagisa says, smiling cheerfully.
Haru knows a lot of boys. He spends time with boys. He has seen naked boys in the showers at the swimming club, he knows how they smell, what they look like when they cry. He knows how fast boys can be, and how their bodies work in the water, and how they can have bony knees, sharp elbows, sharper teeth.
Sometimes Rin makes Haru’s heart jump and his face flush, but that’s because he’s embarrassing. Nagisa likes to touch him a lot, and Haru is okay with that. Makoto once held his hand, his face a bright scarlet, and Haru didn’t mind at all. But would Haruka like to kiss boys, and hold hands with boys, and date boys. He can’t say he does, either.
“I don’t think I do, no,” he says again.
*
When they’re seventeen they have a sleepover at Makoto’s house.
They could have gone to Haru’s, since he lives alone, but Makoto’s parents and brother and sister went out of town for the weekend, and Rin is their friend again and Nagisa is sappy, so they’re at Makoto’s for old times’ sake.
They order pizza, and spend most of the evening and night just telling Rei stories of when they were children. Rei listens, a look of great concentration on his face, like he wants to know everything there is to know about them and their friendship, like he might understand them all better if he knows things that happened before he was around.
Nagisa chats away happily until four in the morning, when he falls asleep curled around Rei on the futon on Makoto’s bedroom floor. Makoto is a nice guy and an even nicer host, so he’s sleeping on the floor too, snoring softly with his back turned to them.
Rin and Haru lie facing each other on the bed. They have been for minutes, maybe hours. Because of the lamppost outside Makoto’s window, Haruka can see the traces of Rin’s face perfectly, watch the way his hair fall in his eyes, his red red eyes that have set Haru aflame many a time.
Lifting his hand, Rin touches Haru’s hair, his forehead. It’s a gentle touch, almost reverent, for only the darkness of the night to see. Haru just keeps looking at him.
Then Rin sighs; he gets up on one elbow, dips forward and kisses Haru.
It’s just a firm touch of his lips to Haru’s, lasting less than thirty seconds. They both keep their eyes open.
(When they were thirteen there had been a beat of silence in which Nagisa frowned confusedly, before Makoto said “Okay,” and it was time for Rin to be asked questions.
“Oh me?” he said, a hand on the back of his neck. Haru could see it tremble. “I suppose I only like boys.”
Nagisa hummed, Makoto blinked twice. “Okay,” Haruka said, and that was it.)
Rin breaks the kiss. Haru says nothing at all. Rin sighs quietly again, dropping his head back on the pillow.
“Still nothing?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound upset or disappointed.
“No,” Haru says, and because he thinks it might be something he must add: “Sorry.”
Rin scowls. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he takes Haru’s hand, kisses it in a rare moment of tenderness. “It’s who you are. And I don’t ever want you to change, stupid.”
Haru feels a bit overwhelmed, watching Rin’s eyes shining bright with affection for him, but he smiles. Rin smiles right back.