.

.

It's not very often that his and Rin's shifts end around the same time.

Hardly ever is the better choice of words.

Makoto doesn't regret his career of being a firefighter — it's what he has wanted since his childhood. An important role in the world, to help people. He does wish that it allowed him more time with Haru and Rin, and that's an opportunity he's taking right this second.

Rin stretches out beneath him, crimson hair spilling out onto Haru's pillow.

His chest exposed and heaving slightly with pants, nipples dusky-rosy and hardening underneath Makoto's wandering, saliva-slick lips.

There's rigid, darkly colored scarring from a bullet-wound just below Rin's left ribcage. Makoto's fingers trace over it softly, carefully. Making a career in the police form is about as dangerous as Makoto's own career — they're just glad Haru chose something safer like a professional mermaid at a famous indoor restaurant.

It's gonna haunt Makoto forever, getting that phone call from the Tokyo's central station. A fresh cup of coffee had gone spilling over Makoto's work-boots as he raced past his grim-faced superior, nearly shoving him aside in attempts to a friend's car. Haru received the same phone call, while lounging and napping in their spacious bathtub. They picked up Haru before driving straight for the hospital; Makoto's never seen him more wide-eyed and lost, fumbling with his wallet and his shoes.

He tried to guide Haru out of their apartment, softly whispering empty reassurances and cupping their hands together. Rin went into surgery for three hours, and didn't leave the critical stage until 48 hours passed. He woke up dry-mouthed and cranky, but endearingly so, because Makoto thought he and Haru might never speak to him again.

It's unimaginable.

Rin whines out a moment, low and throaty. He mutters out Makoto's name as the other man lands a messy, wet kiss on his belly, traveling upwards towards Rin's neck.

"I've missed this," Makoto tells him, whispering near-frantic. Green eyes lidded and bright with complex, hungry emotions. "Miss you, miss Haru, all of of the time…" Lips moving gently against Rin's pulse-point, opening up wide as Rin's fingers comb thoughtfully into Makoto's dark brown hair.

"I know," Rin whispers back, leaning in and pressing an attentive kiss to Makoto's temple. "I know, I know…"

He tilts his naked hips up against him, grinding slowly into Makoto's full, throbbing cock, working himself to a similar sensation of fullness. It's borderlining tortuous. Makoto's toes curl in slightly, before he grinds back, rougher and more sharper, Rin's arms winding his neck.

Makoto thinks he can do this all night, if possible — skin flush and sweat-tacky to Rin's, listening to his partner gasp out for more, more touches, more kisses.

More everything because Rin is secretly a needy and greedy sonnova while making love, and Makoto enjoys the deliverance. As long as he's known him, Rin is so easy to warm up, to excite or anger. He's a heated whirlwind, blazing fires, kindling the affection in Makoto's heart.

But… Haru, on the other hand.

He's the man they both love. Haru's never been truly described as 'warm' by either of them, or their circle of friends. He's standoffish around those he doesn't deem worth his time. Haru's the opposite of fire; he's a deep-sea plunge into blue, blue waters, unable to draw a single breath in. When he loves you, it's like diving into calming waters, hypnotic and sheltered from harm. Haru is far from a cold presence to Makoto or Rin, and it would be so very wrong to say this.

Makoto feels the twitch of a orgasm, not far from reach, their bodies sliding and rutting together. One of his hands curls around Rin's cock and jacks him unsteadily.

"Haru…" Rin murmurs out, but his eyes not focusing on Makoto.

From the doorway, Haru tosses his duffel bag aside and peers over them expressionlessly. His dark, straight bangs still visibly damp. A deeper flush overtakes Makoto's upper body and by now he's halted their pace to stare back. Haru shakes his head, murmuring, "You don't have to stop."

Hearing THAT spoken aloud — just smelling the familiar chlorine from here, being examined with faint approval in Haru's gaze, Makoto's not sure if his body can starve off pleasure long enough to pull Haru tightly against him. To pull him up and kiss him senseless because he's here with them; he's home; they're all home.

Rin's calling for Haru with a teasing half-grin, motioning with a hand.

As soon as Haru is close enough, Makoto grasps his arm, his voice sounding faraway, begging, "Haru, please…" He keens against Haru's lips swooping for his, teeth clinking rudely. It's clumsy and a little bit of drooling, Haru's tongue nudging his, coaxing to move with him as Makoto's mouth opens up wide for him.

The noise that leaves Rin is enough to restart all of the desire pooling in Makoto's belly. He moans against Haru as Rin's fingers clasp loosely to Makoto's cock, twisting.

Haru leans out, breathing raggedly, palming the side of Makoto's face.

He doesn't drop his hand, even while a laughing Rin drags him into a friendly, sloppy kiss, laughing again at a low, noncommittal grunt. "No fair if I don't get one," Rin says, thumbing over Makoto's cockhead. He watches in delight as the other, bigger man rocks his hips impatiently, practically draping himself onto Haru's shoulder.

Makoto vents out a longer, higher-pitched moan, squirming to Haru's bare hand running over the length of his back.

Somewhere between Rin's vigorous, enthusiastic motions and bursts of hot air grazing Makoto's face as Haru gently nibbles his earlobe, Makoto succumbs to that orgasm, face still buried to Haru's clothed shoulder. He wraps an arm to Rin shakily, feeling Rin's weight press in.

It's so good to be home.

.

.


Free! isn't mine. I sorta just wrote this whole thing in someone's askbox one day and WHO DOESN'T LIKE A GOOD OLE WHOLESOME OT3? I'm particularly fond of Makoharurin in all forms, even when Makoharu is my OTP. Hope someone loved this too! Any comments/thoughts so appreciated!