ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ- ʀɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏᴜ sᴜɴᴀ

nights

smut warning -

"I hit my own sister with a car."

Suna and I were taken home by the police in the early hours of the morning. Must've been around 5am. Then I brought myself straight back to his house and we went to sleep. I didn't even step foot in my house. Its currently 5pm, and Rintarou has finally woken up.

"And she was trying to kill my girlfriend."

"Sherlock Holmes, what would we do without you?", I roll my eyes.

"(y/n)!", he whines.

"I'm just making a joke."

"You think this is the time to be making jokes?!", he flops onto his bed and sighs. "Do you think she's okay?"

"Well, she's probably not dead."

"Probably?!"

"Come on, she disappeared without a trace. She was well enough to run away."

"True. I do hope they catch her, but I don't want her to die."

I don't reply, sitting down on the floor infront of his free-standing mirror. Grabbing my bag from beside me, I pull out my makeup bag.

"Why're you doing your makeup?", Suna asks, getting comfy under his covers.

"I want to go out.", I answer, searching angrily for my concealer.

"Really? After everything that happened?"

"Yeah? I'm not saying I wanna go and watch a slasher movie. I just want something to eat."

"I'll make or order anything you want. Can't we just stay in?"

"You can do whatever you want. I'm going out. I don't wanna sit here miserable, who knows what could happen?"

My boyfriend sighs for the thousandth time since he woke up, and forces himself out of the bed in which he just got comfy in. "Going to shower.", he mumbles, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

I then move on to do my mascara, realising the one I have is completely terrible. (a/n: pls give me mascara recommendations) But nonetheless, I somehow make it look presentable and get to my feet.

Rintarou is a hoarder. He has so many little trinkets that have no value or meaning to him, but he just keeps them in drawers, so his room still looks minimalistic. This goes for clothes too, so I figured I'd be able to find something decent to wear.

Rummaging through the many clothes on hangers, I find a pair of my own sweatpants. I decide to just wear one of Rintarou's sweatshirts with these.

After another 20 minutes or so, he finally emerges from the bathroom, towel around his waist, torso bare. His hair is wet, so is a little longer and slightly spiky. Rintarou isn't extremely muscly, like a bodybuilder may be, but he has evident definition all over, mostly in his arms, back and abs.

"Is that my sweater?"

"No."

He smiles weakly and comes over to me, laying on top of me. His skin is damp and his hair is still dripping. "Get off you prick, you're making me wet."

"Am I?", he smirks, looking up at me.

I roll my eyes which makes him let out a slight laugh before planting a soft kiss on my lips.

After he pulls away, I notice his unusual mannerisms. Despite having showered, he still looks drained. His eyes are struggling to stay open, which actually isn't that strange since he's always tired, but he doesn't usually have these dark eyebags that paint his face as of now. When he shifts around on top of me, his movements are slow and seemingly difficult, I can imagine his whole body aches. Mine certainly does, especially my legs.