Loveless - Lis entre les lignes.
Title: Lis entre les lignes.
Fandom: Loveless.
Warnings: Threesome, shota-ish, sex.
Characters/couples: Kio/Ritsuka/Soubi.
Summary: It all starts with Kio sketching Ritsuka.
Rating: NC17
Lis entre les lignes.
Comme tout le monde j'ai mes défauts
J'ai pas toujours les mots qu'il faut
Mais si tu lis entre les lignes
Tu trouveras dans mes chansons
Tout c'que je n'ai pas su te dire
Tu Trouveras, Natasha St. Pier.
He starts to take notices of the fact that something’s weird one day he’s sketching Ritsuka. First time it’s different from all the other times since it isn’t a modeling session; this is Ritsuka leaning against the wall besides Soubi’s bed, watching over his sleep, tiny amethyst slits open that every now and then blink the only thing that shows him Ritsuka is awake.
His pencil is moving as if it had a soul of it’s own, he has lit cigarettes one after the other without taking much more than a drag, eyes going from Soubi to Ritsuka to notebook to Soubi and once and again. The last time he spoke was over two hours ago, when he asked Ritsuka if the smoke bothered him and the teen replied with a distracted ‘no’.
Soubi’s labored breath is the one sound they’re both paying attention to - even the scratch of the pencil seems kind of intrusive at times - and Kio barely remembers a time where he used to blame the same kid in front of him as the one to hurt Soubi. Now he just takes silent notice of his clenched fists and the new dressed wound over his face and makes a mental note to take care of them later.
“I’m… sorry for always troubling you, Kio-san.” Ritsuka’s voice is quiet and for a moment Kio thinks he might have imagined it, but when he actually looks towards the boy, his head is bowed in front of him, wisps of black hair blocking his clenched eyes. Kio looks towards Ritsuka’s hands and he’s not surprised to find the clenched fists shaking.
There’s a brief pang inside his chest then as he thinks ‘how lucky you are, Sou-chan’, but he ignores it as he leaves his sketch-book and moves to kneel in front of Ritsuka, smiling at him and holding his fists to stop the shaking before he hurts himself.
“Rit-chan, you’re not troubling me.” He says warmly before grinning, giving a wink. “It’s that idiot over there that troubles us both, right?”
He’s rewarded by a confused stare before Ritsuka’s face blooms into a tired smile but smile nonetheless, eyes closed and the auburn of the sunrise clinging to his eyelashes and lips.
“You’re right.” Ritsuka agrees with a soft nod and Kio stands up, messing up his hair carefully, but Ritsuka catches his wrist and gives a soft squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here, Kio-san.”
Caught off ward, Kio barely manages to nod before walking towards the kitchen and asking Ritsuka what he wants for breakfast. Soubi’s voice rasping a ‘coffee, black’ makes him ignore the brief moment of something to instead join Ritsuka into the delight of screaming to the stupid bastard for making him - them - worry.
****
The next time Kio realizes he has issues, it’s also discovered between the lines of his sketches.
“Sou-chaaaaan!” He bangs over the door loudly, almost thirty minutes before Soubi has to go and present the test he missed because he was injured and recovering. “Sou-chaaaaan, you’re gonna be late!”
Soubi opens up, hair still wet, bandages recently tied and shirt open, looking over his shoulder before whispering.
“Ritsuka’s sleeping.”
When he lets him inside, Kio knows that he won’t be able to say anything about Soubi being a pervert, because if there was even the chance of that happening, Soubi wouldn’t have let him inside.
Just as he expected, Ritsuka’s curled over himself on the bed wearing Soubi’s shirt and sweatpants that swim over his body, bruises over his face and new bandages wrapped around his arms and Kio sighs before he takes out a lollypop, giving Soubi one without asking.
“I don’t want him to stay alone.” Soubi says finally, not even trying to button up his shirt, and Kio rolls his eyes, moves to button Soubi’s shirt with the easiness that comes from practice and hands him a scrunchie, just before he starts pushing Soubi towards the door.
“Go, I’ll take care of your jailbait.”
It’s obvious Soubi was waiting for that response because he only pauses to take his cigarettes and his jacket, stealing his lollypop and nodding.
“I’ve my cellphone if Ritsuka wants to-”
“Go.”
So he’s alone after Soubi gives a soft smile towards the bundle of teenager in bed and Kio rolls his eyes some more before he moves to pick up the apartment because, even if God knows that he loves the man, Soubi can’t clean to save up his life; he gently shakes his head at the way Ritsuka’s clothes were abandoned and he washes them carefully until the blood is nothing but an awful memory and then sits in the same chair Ritsuka usually sits when Soubi’s injured, and he picks out his sketch-book and starts drawing.
Kio knows he has issues and that he has been Soubi’s friend for far too long when Ritsuka mumbles something in his sleep, stretches a bit before curling back again, and he looks down and finds that his white page is covered by the sketched lines of Ritsuka’s back, wisps of hair curling over his neck and too thin shoulders and for some reason he has drawn a butterfly over his - naked - shoulder blade.
A picture is worth it more than ten thousand words and all that, after all. He always knew that perviness was dangerous; he just didn’t realize it was contagious.
Then Ritsuka moans as he stretches again, rolling over his back, rubbing his eye with an equally bandaged hand. The smile he gives him does something to his insides that Kio would love to be able to say was nausea.
“Morning, Kio-san.”
***
“Ritsuka likes you.”
And of course the complete bastard that Soubi is has to wait until he’s carefully applying the shadows to his almost done canvas to say that. His charcoal makes an angry line that runs all the way from the model’s hand to her foot and Kio glares at Soubi until, if the world was fair, he’d shrivel up and start to self combust.
As it is, he just puts his ‘oh, did I cause that?’ face and keeps on with his sketching. Kio takes a deep breath and goes back to his own before he makes Soubi choke on it.
“Really? Uh.”
“He thinks you’re a good friend.” Soubi pauses a moment. “And I do too.”
There’s warmth unfolding over his stomach, low and spreading, and he tries to keep from smiling but fails.
“I like him too.” When that feels too naked and too close to the truth for him to be comfortable, he gives a tiny snort and grins to Soubi. “Nice kid. It’s a shame he’s such a pedobait, but…”
Soubi snorts too, but there’s a tug over his lips that lasts all class.
***
The deal is that he’s been in love with Soubi for a while now, and being in love with Soubi means, at times, having to hate him just enough to be able to try and drill sense into his brain washed skull, and it means mostly caring enough to stay by his side even with the possibility that he wouldn’t care at all if you didn’t.
And he cares about Ritsuka, too, because he feels the same way he does about Soubi, even though the kid has 95% of Soubi’s undivided attention, and he does like Ritsuka, the sharp intelligence and the wisps of sarcasm that show from his personality, even if he’s messed up, too, and these days he doesn’t dare to call Soubi a pedophile because he really understands why he likes Ritsuka, he really does, and he’s going to blame Soubi for that for the next ten or twenty years or so.
Kio thinks that he might have something for mental cases. And for people already in love. It’s just all between the lines of care and love and friendship, and that he has mixed them up so much that it’s impossible to know when one starts, when one finishes, when did his became up tangled with Soubi’s and Ritsuka’s.
Sometimes, Kio thinks that he might be a bit of a mental case himself.
***
He wakes up with the sudden feeling of a breath against his neck and an unfamiliar (and yet almost not) smell drifting up his nose, and when he looks towards the side, Ritsuka is leaning against his arm, breathing slowly, his lips softly open after the exhaustion had finally taken its toll on him.
Kio’d reach to touch him out of curiosity, trail a hand down his hair and over his jaw and his chin and touch the skin of his face, just to make sure he’s real but Soubi is sitting in front of them, leaning over his knees, and the only bandage he’s wearing is the one around his neck. He’s not wearing his glasses, and his eyes seem dark and full of something he’s not sure what to name, but there’s the softest of smiles playing upon the corner of his lips.
“You two look good together, Kio.”
He blushes and he’d flinch away of the way those eyes aren’t blaming him and are doing nothing but being perhaps a bit amused. “Sou-chan! Is not-”
Soubi gives a warm, throaty laugh and he shakes his head. “Kio, it’s okay. I told you, Ritsuka likes you.”
And he wants to answer that no, it’s not okay, that he shouldn’t be saying that it’s okay because, dammit, he loves the boy, doesn’t he? So he should feel jealous and angry that his best friend has something for him, it’s the obvious answer anyone remotely normal would feel, but of course Soubi has to be different here and instead of hitting him he’s kissing him, a warm hand against his cheek and he presses close, a knee between Kio’s and a soft hand touching Ritsuka’s face, and even though he wants to protest he’s not able too, and instead gives a soft moan into the kiss.
“Sou-chan…” he mutters after the kiss, and tries to complain and pretend he doesn’t want to, that he didn’t like it, but it’s more of a silent question, wondering about the teenager sleeping by his side and the fact that Kio’d rather do a Van Gogh before hurting the kid.
Soubi’s smile seems to widen and softly, just as silently as before, Soubi lowers to his knees, between the brief space where his legs and Ritsuka’s are not touching, and he cups carefully the sleeping teen’s face, kissing him awake.
Ritsuka makes a mumbling sound as he kisses back, mostly still asleep even when Soubi gently tugs on the full curve of his lower lip, when a kiss becomes another, and another, and Kio can’t stop himself from watching when Ritsuka’s hands move to Soubi’s shoulder, still sounding half asleep, and he can’t move from there, can’t make a bolt for the door, feeling as if Soubi’s hand on his thigh was keeping him there even as his throat goes dry.
“Wake up, Ritsuka.” Soubi says softly and Kio panics, eyes wide. He wonders how much of chance he has to make a run for the door before the kid’s eyes open, but then Ritsuka is looking at Soubi with a confused look before he takes notice of the fact that he’s also there when his whatever-they’re-calling-it is almost making out with him.
“Soubi!” Ritsuka’s ears press against his skull and he flushes, tail swinging from side to side, obviously nervous and embarrassed. “What are you doing!?”
“I’m going!” Kio says, but Soubi’s hand was still over his thigh.
“Ritsuka wants you to stay.”
“Soubi!”
“Sou-chan!”
“Am I wrong?” Soubi asks, his voice still warm and just a little amused, and in any other occasion Kio would say to Ritsuka to team together against the obviously evil bastard that Soubi is, but at the moment and at the way Soubi’s voice sounds, ‘teaming up’ had much more implications than the ones he means.
For the way Ritsuka is blushing, he’s thinking the same. “I…”
And Soubi leans against Ritsuka’s side, kissing him softly, lips moving down the line of his jaw and nuzzling his neck. The scared, wide eyed look Ritsuka still remains, even though he curls a hand over Soubi’s shirt.
“It’s okay, Ritsuka.” Soubi says, voice so warm, so deep. “Just tell him.”
And if Kio had had the tiniest chance of running before, he realizes it’s all lost now because there’s no way he’s going to be able to say no to Ritsuka when his eyes are looking up to him like that. If a picture speaks thousand words, Ritsuka’s eyes speak of whole universes as he looks at him through his eyelashes, moving a hand over his wrist.
“Kio-san…”
A part of Kio’s brain knows that he’s going to have to deal with a very smug Soubi in the morning (since apparently the freak is completely a-okay with all this) but at the moment he can’t care about that, already caring at the way his hand cups Ritsuka’s face and slides through a few strands of his hair, tilting his head up to kiss him.
He’d say everything went to hell, but with Soubi’s hand stroking the inside of his thigh and Ritsuka giving a sigh over their kiss, his hand still holding unto his wrist, Kio knows he wouldn’t dare to say such an obvious lie.
***
Kio groans, lips against Ritsuka’s pulse. Moving from the couch to the bed had been easy enough, even if it had taken its time. By the time he sat on the bed, pulling Ritsuka between his legs, the teen had been naked and shivering, an embarrassed flush warming up all of his skin, and Soubi had been behind him, taking his shirt, opening his jeans. Kio had devoured hungrily the lines of Soubi’s body as he took off his own jersey, had stopped from kissing Ritsuka to instead kiss Soubi until they were both startled by the soft moan coming from the teen’s throat.
“‘m not fucking a kid.” Kio says, even though he’s so, so close of deciding that Ritsuka is mature enough for him to delude himself, especially with the way he’s squirming underneath him; even more with the way Soubi’s hand keeps stroking his cock. Ritsuka doesn’t seem to mind his statement, but he gasps when Kio sucks over his collarbone, leaving a mark.
Soubi’s chuckle is honey warm against his ear, even as his hand stops stroking his cock to instead, softly, start rubbing a finger against his hole before softly pushing inside. Kio moans in both yearning and relief, and softly graces his teeth against Ritsuka’s collarbone.
“Good,” Soubi says in a voice that’s almost normal. Kio gives a slow hiss when he starts moving the finger inside him, stretching him, and Ritsuka kisses him then, holding his face with his hands. Kio moans inside the kiss when Soubi’s finger curls just so, and he knows Soubi’s smirking when he speaks again. “Because Ritsuka still wants to keep his ears.”
They both break the kiss at the same time, shrilling another ‘SOUBI!’ but his voice turns to a groan as Soubi takes out his finger to press inside with another, and he notices Ritsuka’s eyes are wide and intense over him so he kisses him again, shifting when Soubi’s fingers become three, giving a slow hiss when Ritsuka moans, trembling softly against his arms.
And Soubi presses in, presses close, presses warm against his back while Ritsuka keeps making small noises against his mouth, hard against his own cock and Kio has but a moment to dully realize that their lines are even more tangled then, for the way Ritsuka’s knee is against his waist , pressing close, and Soubi’s fingers are beside that, over his hip and when Ritsuka moves a hand behind him, Kio is almost able to see the way Soubi nuzzles it. It doesn’t last much, that moment of introspection, because Ritsuka gives a small nod and Soubi's breath sounds like a wave before he starts thrusting inside him. Kio moves an arm under Ritsuka’s waist to press him just as close, starts rocking against him, feeling himself shiver at the way the teen moans and gasps; Soubi reacts to the same stimuli, the hands over his hips holding tighter.
“So-Soubi!” Ritsuka moans; Kio keeps a firm hold of his hips and of the way they rub together when Soubi thrusts, “Kio-san!” and after that there’s the taught line of his body as his climax hits him, come against his stomach and Kio remembers that he’s still a kid, after all, barely a teenager, but he stops short from wondering when he had become a child molester when Ritsuka’s hand, still trembling after his orgasm, moves between them and takes hold of his cock, stroking him at the rhythm Soubi has.
Soubi leans against his back, kisses his neck, runs his tongue again over the line of his piercings and Kio moans, throwing his head back even as Soubi continues to fuck him and he fucks Ritsuka’s hand. He feels Ritsuka shifting and when he opens his eyes he sees the teen with his eyes focused over his shoulder and he bets Soubi’s eyes are wide open, focused back on Ritsuka.
Ritsuka reaches with his other hand to touch Soubi’s face and then says, with a voice that sounds thick and shivering. “Come, Soubi.”
There’s a small groan, a tightening over his hips and Kio’s vision flashes white as he spills over Ritsuka’s hand, giving a long moan that’s mix of Ritsuka and Soubi and he feels Soubi coming inside him.
When Soubi slips off him, Kio barely has enough mind left to roll a little to his side, just enough as to not crush Ritsuka, but he keeps the kid in his arms, sharing soft, lingering kisses. Soubi moves from the bed and when he returns he’s barely awake to do as he’s told and clean himself; they both clean Ritsuka, who barely flutters his eyes open at the feeling of a warm cloth pressing against sensitive skin, and he doesn’t say another thing as he rolls when Soubi gets inside the bed again, pressing his face against Soubi’s chest but keeping a hold over Kio’s arm around him.
Soubi smiles at him in a way softer than a kiss and Kio has but a moment to feel his lips curve in answer before he closes his eyes, feeling both Ritsuka and Soubi’s heartbeat through the hand that’s between their chests.
***
Kio wakes up to the sound of pencil scratching over paper, not a very unfamiliar sound. What’s slightly unfamiliar is the feeling of contentment, and peace.
A small body burrows closer to his, and when Kio opens his eyes and notices cat ears, his brain is wide awake.
“Fuck.” He says, quietly, feeling Ritsuka’s breathing against his chest, hands curled softly over pale skin.
“So early?” He hears Soubi say, and he turns his head as much as he can, looking at Soubi sitting nearby the bed. There are two cup of coffee over the nightstand, and Soubi is sketching while he smokes. “Really, Kio. You should eat breakfast at least.”
Whatever he was going to answer is lost when he feels Ritsuka shifting again, curling closer to him.
He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might have been a bit harsh on calling Soubi a pervert so many times. Then, Ritsuka shifts against his side once more, a leg between his, and decides that he had been harsh, very much so, but at the moment he just snorts and moves on his back, leaning enough to snatch the cup of coffee and take a sip.
“Nice sketch,” he compliments, taking a peek of Soubi’s notebook. Ritsuka’s breathing is still deep and even, and he finds it hard to worry when Soubi’s eyes are so warm. “Very clean lines.”
Fandom: Loveless.
Warnings: Threesome, shota-ish, sex.
Characters/couples: Kio/Ritsuka/Soubi.
Summary: It all starts with Kio sketching Ritsuka.
Rating: NC17
Lis entre les lignes.
Comme tout le monde j'ai mes défauts
J'ai pas toujours les mots qu'il faut
Mais si tu lis entre les lignes
Tu trouveras dans mes chansons
Tout c'que je n'ai pas su te dire
Tu Trouveras, Natasha St. Pier.
He starts to take notices of the fact that something’s weird one day he’s sketching Ritsuka. First time it’s different from all the other times since it isn’t a modeling session; this is Ritsuka leaning against the wall besides Soubi’s bed, watching over his sleep, tiny amethyst slits open that every now and then blink the only thing that shows him Ritsuka is awake.
His pencil is moving as if it had a soul of it’s own, he has lit cigarettes one after the other without taking much more than a drag, eyes going from Soubi to Ritsuka to notebook to Soubi and once and again. The last time he spoke was over two hours ago, when he asked Ritsuka if the smoke bothered him and the teen replied with a distracted ‘no’.
Soubi’s labored breath is the one sound they’re both paying attention to - even the scratch of the pencil seems kind of intrusive at times - and Kio barely remembers a time where he used to blame the same kid in front of him as the one to hurt Soubi. Now he just takes silent notice of his clenched fists and the new dressed wound over his face and makes a mental note to take care of them later.
“I’m… sorry for always troubling you, Kio-san.” Ritsuka’s voice is quiet and for a moment Kio thinks he might have imagined it, but when he actually looks towards the boy, his head is bowed in front of him, wisps of black hair blocking his clenched eyes. Kio looks towards Ritsuka’s hands and he’s not surprised to find the clenched fists shaking.
There’s a brief pang inside his chest then as he thinks ‘how lucky you are, Sou-chan’, but he ignores it as he leaves his sketch-book and moves to kneel in front of Ritsuka, smiling at him and holding his fists to stop the shaking before he hurts himself.
“Rit-chan, you’re not troubling me.” He says warmly before grinning, giving a wink. “It’s that idiot over there that troubles us both, right?”
He’s rewarded by a confused stare before Ritsuka’s face blooms into a tired smile but smile nonetheless, eyes closed and the auburn of the sunrise clinging to his eyelashes and lips.
“You’re right.” Ritsuka agrees with a soft nod and Kio stands up, messing up his hair carefully, but Ritsuka catches his wrist and gives a soft squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here, Kio-san.”
Caught off ward, Kio barely manages to nod before walking towards the kitchen and asking Ritsuka what he wants for breakfast. Soubi’s voice rasping a ‘coffee, black’ makes him ignore the brief moment of something to instead join Ritsuka into the delight of screaming to the stupid bastard for making him - them - worry.
****
The next time Kio realizes he has issues, it’s also discovered between the lines of his sketches.
“Sou-chaaaaan!” He bangs over the door loudly, almost thirty minutes before Soubi has to go and present the test he missed because he was injured and recovering. “Sou-chaaaaan, you’re gonna be late!”
Soubi opens up, hair still wet, bandages recently tied and shirt open, looking over his shoulder before whispering.
“Ritsuka’s sleeping.”
When he lets him inside, Kio knows that he won’t be able to say anything about Soubi being a pervert, because if there was even the chance of that happening, Soubi wouldn’t have let him inside.
Just as he expected, Ritsuka’s curled over himself on the bed wearing Soubi’s shirt and sweatpants that swim over his body, bruises over his face and new bandages wrapped around his arms and Kio sighs before he takes out a lollypop, giving Soubi one without asking.
“I don’t want him to stay alone.” Soubi says finally, not even trying to button up his shirt, and Kio rolls his eyes, moves to button Soubi’s shirt with the easiness that comes from practice and hands him a scrunchie, just before he starts pushing Soubi towards the door.
“Go, I’ll take care of your jailbait.”
It’s obvious Soubi was waiting for that response because he only pauses to take his cigarettes and his jacket, stealing his lollypop and nodding.
“I’ve my cellphone if Ritsuka wants to-”
“Go.”
So he’s alone after Soubi gives a soft smile towards the bundle of teenager in bed and Kio rolls his eyes some more before he moves to pick up the apartment because, even if God knows that he loves the man, Soubi can’t clean to save up his life; he gently shakes his head at the way Ritsuka’s clothes were abandoned and he washes them carefully until the blood is nothing but an awful memory and then sits in the same chair Ritsuka usually sits when Soubi’s injured, and he picks out his sketch-book and starts drawing.
Kio knows he has issues and that he has been Soubi’s friend for far too long when Ritsuka mumbles something in his sleep, stretches a bit before curling back again, and he looks down and finds that his white page is covered by the sketched lines of Ritsuka’s back, wisps of hair curling over his neck and too thin shoulders and for some reason he has drawn a butterfly over his - naked - shoulder blade.
A picture is worth it more than ten thousand words and all that, after all. He always knew that perviness was dangerous; he just didn’t realize it was contagious.
Then Ritsuka moans as he stretches again, rolling over his back, rubbing his eye with an equally bandaged hand. The smile he gives him does something to his insides that Kio would love to be able to say was nausea.
“Morning, Kio-san.”
***
“Ritsuka likes you.”
And of course the complete bastard that Soubi is has to wait until he’s carefully applying the shadows to his almost done canvas to say that. His charcoal makes an angry line that runs all the way from the model’s hand to her foot and Kio glares at Soubi until, if the world was fair, he’d shrivel up and start to self combust.
As it is, he just puts his ‘oh, did I cause that?’ face and keeps on with his sketching. Kio takes a deep breath and goes back to his own before he makes Soubi choke on it.
“Really? Uh.”
“He thinks you’re a good friend.” Soubi pauses a moment. “And I do too.”
There’s warmth unfolding over his stomach, low and spreading, and he tries to keep from smiling but fails.
“I like him too.” When that feels too naked and too close to the truth for him to be comfortable, he gives a tiny snort and grins to Soubi. “Nice kid. It’s a shame he’s such a pedobait, but…”
Soubi snorts too, but there’s a tug over his lips that lasts all class.
***
The deal is that he’s been in love with Soubi for a while now, and being in love with Soubi means, at times, having to hate him just enough to be able to try and drill sense into his brain washed skull, and it means mostly caring enough to stay by his side even with the possibility that he wouldn’t care at all if you didn’t.
And he cares about Ritsuka, too, because he feels the same way he does about Soubi, even though the kid has 95% of Soubi’s undivided attention, and he does like Ritsuka, the sharp intelligence and the wisps of sarcasm that show from his personality, even if he’s messed up, too, and these days he doesn’t dare to call Soubi a pedophile because he really understands why he likes Ritsuka, he really does, and he’s going to blame Soubi for that for the next ten or twenty years or so.
Kio thinks that he might have something for mental cases. And for people already in love. It’s just all between the lines of care and love and friendship, and that he has mixed them up so much that it’s impossible to know when one starts, when one finishes, when did his became up tangled with Soubi’s and Ritsuka’s.
Sometimes, Kio thinks that he might be a bit of a mental case himself.
***
He wakes up with the sudden feeling of a breath against his neck and an unfamiliar (and yet almost not) smell drifting up his nose, and when he looks towards the side, Ritsuka is leaning against his arm, breathing slowly, his lips softly open after the exhaustion had finally taken its toll on him.
Kio’d reach to touch him out of curiosity, trail a hand down his hair and over his jaw and his chin and touch the skin of his face, just to make sure he’s real but Soubi is sitting in front of them, leaning over his knees, and the only bandage he’s wearing is the one around his neck. He’s not wearing his glasses, and his eyes seem dark and full of something he’s not sure what to name, but there’s the softest of smiles playing upon the corner of his lips.
“You two look good together, Kio.”
He blushes and he’d flinch away of the way those eyes aren’t blaming him and are doing nothing but being perhaps a bit amused. “Sou-chan! Is not-”
Soubi gives a warm, throaty laugh and he shakes his head. “Kio, it’s okay. I told you, Ritsuka likes you.”
And he wants to answer that no, it’s not okay, that he shouldn’t be saying that it’s okay because, dammit, he loves the boy, doesn’t he? So he should feel jealous and angry that his best friend has something for him, it’s the obvious answer anyone remotely normal would feel, but of course Soubi has to be different here and instead of hitting him he’s kissing him, a warm hand against his cheek and he presses close, a knee between Kio’s and a soft hand touching Ritsuka’s face, and even though he wants to protest he’s not able too, and instead gives a soft moan into the kiss.
“Sou-chan…” he mutters after the kiss, and tries to complain and pretend he doesn’t want to, that he didn’t like it, but it’s more of a silent question, wondering about the teenager sleeping by his side and the fact that Kio’d rather do a Van Gogh before hurting the kid.
Soubi’s smile seems to widen and softly, just as silently as before, Soubi lowers to his knees, between the brief space where his legs and Ritsuka’s are not touching, and he cups carefully the sleeping teen’s face, kissing him awake.
Ritsuka makes a mumbling sound as he kisses back, mostly still asleep even when Soubi gently tugs on the full curve of his lower lip, when a kiss becomes another, and another, and Kio can’t stop himself from watching when Ritsuka’s hands move to Soubi’s shoulder, still sounding half asleep, and he can’t move from there, can’t make a bolt for the door, feeling as if Soubi’s hand on his thigh was keeping him there even as his throat goes dry.
“Wake up, Ritsuka.” Soubi says softly and Kio panics, eyes wide. He wonders how much of chance he has to make a run for the door before the kid’s eyes open, but then Ritsuka is looking at Soubi with a confused look before he takes notice of the fact that he’s also there when his whatever-they’re-calling-it is almost making out with him.
“Soubi!” Ritsuka’s ears press against his skull and he flushes, tail swinging from side to side, obviously nervous and embarrassed. “What are you doing!?”
“I’m going!” Kio says, but Soubi’s hand was still over his thigh.
“Ritsuka wants you to stay.”
“Soubi!”
“Sou-chan!”
“Am I wrong?” Soubi asks, his voice still warm and just a little amused, and in any other occasion Kio would say to Ritsuka to team together against the obviously evil bastard that Soubi is, but at the moment and at the way Soubi’s voice sounds, ‘teaming up’ had much more implications than the ones he means.
For the way Ritsuka is blushing, he’s thinking the same. “I…”
And Soubi leans against Ritsuka’s side, kissing him softly, lips moving down the line of his jaw and nuzzling his neck. The scared, wide eyed look Ritsuka still remains, even though he curls a hand over Soubi’s shirt.
“It’s okay, Ritsuka.” Soubi says, voice so warm, so deep. “Just tell him.”
And if Kio had had the tiniest chance of running before, he realizes it’s all lost now because there’s no way he’s going to be able to say no to Ritsuka when his eyes are looking up to him like that. If a picture speaks thousand words, Ritsuka’s eyes speak of whole universes as he looks at him through his eyelashes, moving a hand over his wrist.
“Kio-san…”
A part of Kio’s brain knows that he’s going to have to deal with a very smug Soubi in the morning (since apparently the freak is completely a-okay with all this) but at the moment he can’t care about that, already caring at the way his hand cups Ritsuka’s face and slides through a few strands of his hair, tilting his head up to kiss him.
He’d say everything went to hell, but with Soubi’s hand stroking the inside of his thigh and Ritsuka giving a sigh over their kiss, his hand still holding unto his wrist, Kio knows he wouldn’t dare to say such an obvious lie.
***
Kio groans, lips against Ritsuka’s pulse. Moving from the couch to the bed had been easy enough, even if it had taken its time. By the time he sat on the bed, pulling Ritsuka between his legs, the teen had been naked and shivering, an embarrassed flush warming up all of his skin, and Soubi had been behind him, taking his shirt, opening his jeans. Kio had devoured hungrily the lines of Soubi’s body as he took off his own jersey, had stopped from kissing Ritsuka to instead kiss Soubi until they were both startled by the soft moan coming from the teen’s throat.
“‘m not fucking a kid.” Kio says, even though he’s so, so close of deciding that Ritsuka is mature enough for him to delude himself, especially with the way he’s squirming underneath him; even more with the way Soubi’s hand keeps stroking his cock. Ritsuka doesn’t seem to mind his statement, but he gasps when Kio sucks over his collarbone, leaving a mark.
Soubi’s chuckle is honey warm against his ear, even as his hand stops stroking his cock to instead, softly, start rubbing a finger against his hole before softly pushing inside. Kio moans in both yearning and relief, and softly graces his teeth against Ritsuka’s collarbone.
“Good,” Soubi says in a voice that’s almost normal. Kio gives a slow hiss when he starts moving the finger inside him, stretching him, and Ritsuka kisses him then, holding his face with his hands. Kio moans inside the kiss when Soubi’s finger curls just so, and he knows Soubi’s smirking when he speaks again. “Because Ritsuka still wants to keep his ears.”
They both break the kiss at the same time, shrilling another ‘SOUBI!’ but his voice turns to a groan as Soubi takes out his finger to press inside with another, and he notices Ritsuka’s eyes are wide and intense over him so he kisses him again, shifting when Soubi’s fingers become three, giving a slow hiss when Ritsuka moans, trembling softly against his arms.
And Soubi presses in, presses close, presses warm against his back while Ritsuka keeps making small noises against his mouth, hard against his own cock and Kio has but a moment to dully realize that their lines are even more tangled then, for the way Ritsuka’s knee is against his waist , pressing close, and Soubi’s fingers are beside that, over his hip and when Ritsuka moves a hand behind him, Kio is almost able to see the way Soubi nuzzles it. It doesn’t last much, that moment of introspection, because Ritsuka gives a small nod and Soubi's breath sounds like a wave before he starts thrusting inside him. Kio moves an arm under Ritsuka’s waist to press him just as close, starts rocking against him, feeling himself shiver at the way the teen moans and gasps; Soubi reacts to the same stimuli, the hands over his hips holding tighter.
“So-Soubi!” Ritsuka moans; Kio keeps a firm hold of his hips and of the way they rub together when Soubi thrusts, “Kio-san!” and after that there’s the taught line of his body as his climax hits him, come against his stomach and Kio remembers that he’s still a kid, after all, barely a teenager, but he stops short from wondering when he had become a child molester when Ritsuka’s hand, still trembling after his orgasm, moves between them and takes hold of his cock, stroking him at the rhythm Soubi has.
Soubi leans against his back, kisses his neck, runs his tongue again over the line of his piercings and Kio moans, throwing his head back even as Soubi continues to fuck him and he fucks Ritsuka’s hand. He feels Ritsuka shifting and when he opens his eyes he sees the teen with his eyes focused over his shoulder and he bets Soubi’s eyes are wide open, focused back on Ritsuka.
Ritsuka reaches with his other hand to touch Soubi’s face and then says, with a voice that sounds thick and shivering. “Come, Soubi.”
There’s a small groan, a tightening over his hips and Kio’s vision flashes white as he spills over Ritsuka’s hand, giving a long moan that’s mix of Ritsuka and Soubi and he feels Soubi coming inside him.
When Soubi slips off him, Kio barely has enough mind left to roll a little to his side, just enough as to not crush Ritsuka, but he keeps the kid in his arms, sharing soft, lingering kisses. Soubi moves from the bed and when he returns he’s barely awake to do as he’s told and clean himself; they both clean Ritsuka, who barely flutters his eyes open at the feeling of a warm cloth pressing against sensitive skin, and he doesn’t say another thing as he rolls when Soubi gets inside the bed again, pressing his face against Soubi’s chest but keeping a hold over Kio’s arm around him.
Soubi smiles at him in a way softer than a kiss and Kio has but a moment to feel his lips curve in answer before he closes his eyes, feeling both Ritsuka and Soubi’s heartbeat through the hand that’s between their chests.
***
Kio wakes up to the sound of pencil scratching over paper, not a very unfamiliar sound. What’s slightly unfamiliar is the feeling of contentment, and peace.
A small body burrows closer to his, and when Kio opens his eyes and notices cat ears, his brain is wide awake.
“Fuck.” He says, quietly, feeling Ritsuka’s breathing against his chest, hands curled softly over pale skin.
“So early?” He hears Soubi say, and he turns his head as much as he can, looking at Soubi sitting nearby the bed. There are two cup of coffee over the nightstand, and Soubi is sketching while he smokes. “Really, Kio. You should eat breakfast at least.”
Whatever he was going to answer is lost when he feels Ritsuka shifting again, curling closer to him.
He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might have been a bit harsh on calling Soubi a pervert so many times. Then, Ritsuka shifts against his side once more, a leg between his, and decides that he had been harsh, very much so, but at the moment he just snorts and moves on his back, leaning enough to snatch the cup of coffee and take a sip.
“Nice sketch,” he compliments, taking a peek of Soubi’s notebook. Ritsuka’s breathing is still deep and even, and he finds it hard to worry when Soubi’s eyes are so warm. “Very clean lines.”