Makoto's birthday inspired so much great fanart and fanfic throughout the free!dom, it was hard to keep up with it all! If you missed any of the seriously excellent fanworks created as part of the 2013 Makoto Birthday Exchange, fear not: we'll be highlighting two works every week until each piece of art, comic, and fic has been in the spotlight.
FEATURED THIS WEEK
August 10, 2014
untitled – by Marskels (Makoto)

[view the full piece here]
Your Body is a Map of Sin (And I, Your Cartographer) – by Gestahlt (Makoto/Rin)
The sun is hot above them. The unforgiving summer heat has forced Makoto to discard his shirt, and even if Rin has seen that broad back a thousand times, the sight of it slick with sweat instead of chlorinated water sends a rush of heat curling in his belly, fire singing in his veins.
Quietly, he approaches, eyes drawn to the muscles of Makoto’s back, watching the way they shift beneath the tan skin, noting the places where dark scratches and finger-shaped bruises used to be, phantom marks that only Rin will remember.
Rin’s eyes slant lower. Makoto is wearing very worn-in jeans, threadbare in many places: along the lines of his calves, across his right knee cap, on the diagonal expanse of his left thigh. When he bends down to return the pruning shears to the tool box, the material stretches indecently along the curve of his ass, looking like it’s about to give way any minute now, and Rin wonders if this is an issue of the jeans’ integrity or if Makoto is doing this on purpose.
Makoto stands up and wipes his brow with the back of his other hand, his sandy brown hair glinting gold beneath the afternoon sun. A bead of sweat travels along the line of his spine, briefly resting on the small of his back before slipping into the band of his jeans.
Rin’s mouth runs dry, and without meaning to, his hand is up, and he presses the camera button on his phone, capturing the moment.
The shot is perfect. The sun has wrapped around Makoto like a full-body halo that makes Rin think of marble statues of Western deities and battle-hardened warriors. He thinks of the many nights he’ll be touching himself to this image, imagining Makoto’s body moving on top of him, his large hands gripping Rin’s hips, long fingers spreading him apart. Everything about Makoto seems large, but not too large—enough to wrap around Rin, but not to smother him.
[read the full piece here]
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