Rin Bonus Story: Pulling Your Punches (male Rin)

“You’re pulling your punches.”

I pant the words a hand’s breadth from Rin’s face, and there’s no way to miss the annoyed expression it sparks on his face.

“No, I’m not,” he replies flatly. He turns and walks without further comment to where we’ve set our gear, adjusting the straps on his gloves and rummaging in his pack until he finds his canteen.

“You are,” I insist, crossing my arms. “What’s the matter, afraid I’m made of glass? I'm completely healed from our last job - you don't need to go easy on me.” I only connect the dots as I say it: last week saw us facing off with a particularly angry fae, and Rin's been stealing glances at me walking ever since I got my leg patched up. It's still a little sore, but nothing terrible.

He gives me a sidelong look as I approach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he takes a long drink from his canteen and splashes his face with what’s left. “Gods, it’s hot. We’re going inside after this round, I can’t take it.”

“I don’t care where we spar, but you’re going to have to take this more seriously. Otherwise I’ll just go get Keo or Wren,” I reply stubbornly. “Are we here to train, or not?”

“Round three, [mouse/trouble],” he says, ignoring my comment and tapping my shoulder lightly with his knuckles. “Come on.”

I follow him back within the borders of the outdoor ring, but again it’s the same. He dodges more than he strikes, feints when he has the opportunity to attack. Finally I stop, dropping my hands to my sides mid-fight.

“What?” he asks immediately.

“There’s no point in training if we don’t push each other,” I frown.

His brow creases in annoyance. “We’re leaving for the wilds tomorrow,” he says. “You want to be walking around out there injured? Sounds like a great plan.”

“I could get Tiane to patch me up before we left, if it came to it. I can take a hit or two, you're not going to seriously hurt me.”

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t want you hurt at all,” he snaps.

I stare at him, surprised at the outburst. For a moment he looks as startled as me, but in a flash it’s gone, replaced by a sly expression. “Unless that’s what you’re into,” he says. He steps closer, anchoring his hand at the side of my neck and pulling me in an inch. "Is that what you want? You know, you could've just said so."

Even through my racing heartbeat and rapidly-flushing cheeks, I can tell he's deflecting. “Very funny,” I say a little breathlessly.

“I try my best,” he smirks, pecking my cheek then tossing his gloves into his pack. “Come on, let’s get some food. I’m tired of training.”

I'm so lost in thought I don't notice him slip a balm into my pocket while we walk. I can smell everbloom leaves in it when I open it later, a plant so rare I'm sure he must've stolen the medicine - I didn't even know we had this inside the city. When I try it on my leg the remaining soreness vanishes, like it never existed.