(no subject)
Okay, this fic is ENTIRELY snarky_kat's FAULT! It is entirely PWP. Anyone looking for substance, go somewhere else. This was supposed to be a drabble, love. Instead, it became 5158 words of poorly written smut.
This is my first attempt at this fandom and I'm not sure if I got their characters right. I apologize if I raped anyone's favorite character here. :/
Again, this is probably of NO INTEREST to anyone but that perv Kat, who is to blame for this sin against gawd.
Title: Er, Untitled I guess. (Because "Earless" would be too cliche.)
Rating: NC-17 and beyond! To the moon, Alice!
Fandom: Loveless
Pairing: Soubi/Ritsuka
Warning: Mm, lots of smex, itsy bitsy teensy weensy spoilers for end of series
Summary: You know those cute little ears on Ritsuka's head? They're outta here!
"I love you."
He'd heard it a million times. More times than he could count. Enough times in the last four years to all but strip him of his name, to all but reduce him to believing those silly words.
But it was different this time. Different. There was something different in the register of Soubi's voice, and his control of it. Something different in the way that long-fingered hands gripped at him, at his clothes. Something different about how a warm, pink tongue was sliding gently along his bottom lip.
Not that he hadn't felt Soubi's tongue before. Not that Soubi hadn't lain on top of him and kissed him, running large adult hands down his arms. Not that he hadn't thought about this countless times in the last four years. Not that it didn't feel like the right thing to do. It was just...different.
He'd waited. Not always patiently, but the important thing was that he did, in fact, wait just as Soubi had requested. He'd counted the moments, the sunrises, the text messages, the gentle refusals, the days until this day. His sixteenth birthday. It all seemed rather grand and cliched, but Soubi had insisted on waiting. And so they had.
And it had been worth it, Ritsuka thought, as Soubi's lips slid from earlobe to neck to collarbone to throat. It had been worth the wait, the begging, the phone calls that escalated from "How was school?" to "Soubi!" as Soubi whispered heated words to him. It had been unbearable, but they had waited and the long repression had led them to Soubi's bed.
Even on this day, the wait had been painful. Yuiko and Yayoi had joined them for a small celebration and had stayed...and stayed...and stayed... It was such a long visit. And Soubi was so accommodating. And Ritsuka had wanted nothing more than to push them out the door, send them with a plate of cake, a canteen of punch, anything to get them to leave them alone!
But as soon as Yuiko's pink tail had swished out, the door was closed swiftly behind her and Ritsuka had turned, pressed his back against the door, and blushed. Soubi had smiled, unreadable, and began to gather the plates and cups from the table, enjoying silently the small growl that had worked its way out of Ritsuka's throat.
"Soubi!" he had whined, forceful and hesitant at the same time, sounding every bit like the frightened, melancholy boy that Soubi remembered.
Soubi had turned slowly, hands occupied with dishes, and smiled kindly, his eyebrows rising in question.
Ritsuka had blushed and looked down. "I just...well, weren't we...I mean..."
"If it's for Ritsuka, there's nothing I can't do."
Soubi's eyes had registered the quiver in Ritsuka's jaw and the clenching of his fists.
"Did you want more cake?" Soubi had offered, still with that impenetrable smile.
Ritsuka's lips pursed for a moment before he looked up again, pink ravaging his cheeks, and his eyes wild.
"Idiot!" he had said and crossed the room in three steps with legs that had certainly grown longer in the four years since they had first met. He would likely never be as tall as Seimei, but he came fully up to Soubi's chin now and took advantage of this fact by reaching up to pull the older man's lips down onto his own.
Ritsuka had noticed that Soubi's eyes had gone wide for a brief moment as he struggled to balance both himself and the stack of plates, but he'd recovered nicely using Ritsuka's mouth for leverage.
"Can we..." Ritsuka had muttered, as they pulled apart for air.
"Say it," Soubi whispered, "Anything for Ritsuka."
Ritsuka tensed and pulled his mouth away. That had been the last thing he'd wanted to hear. He didn't want to think about commands and obedience, masters and servants. Not at this moment, not as he watched Soubi put the dishes down and as he felt those hands slide around his waist, lacing together behind his back.
And even that comfortable, familiar embrace felt so different. It was different, wasn't it? Wasn't this their chance to come together as blood-equals, not as fighter and sacrifice, or even as friends? Despite the heat of tongue-on-tongue, Ritsuka felt himself pushing out of the embrace.
"Ritsuka...?"
Ritsuka reached for his coat. "I think I'm going home," he said, eyes trained to the floor and the remnants of a blush still present on his cheeks.
"Ritsuka," Soubi had said again, "...Are you scared?"
"Soubi!"
"It's all right to be scared, Ritsuka."
"I'm not scared!"
Ritsuka flushed as he was pulled into a new embrace and felt Soubi's head rest atop his own. He knew this to be Soubi's way to calm him down and, like some Pavlovian bell, it had come to be very effective over the past four years.
"What's wrong? Tell me what you want and I will do it."
Ritsuka growled and pushed his arms away. "Idiot! That's what's wrong!"
Ritsuka had watched as Soubi dropped his arms to his sides and blinked.
"Ritsuka..."
"I don't want you t-to do this," he motioned between them wildly, "because I told you to!"
Soubi blinked again. "Then what do you want, Ritsuka?"
"For you to stop that!" he growled, "For you to quit asking me what I want!"
Ritsuka pulled away as Soubi reached for him again.
"I want you to do this because you want to, you idiot!"
Soubi had ignored Ritsuka's protests then and had hugged him tightly around the shoulders. "I understand," he had whispered, "Well said, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka had blinked as he was reminded of a terrifying dream he had once had.
"Soubi..."
"Ritsuka."
"So, we can..."
Soubi had smiled. "Of course," he'd said, "because I love you, Ritsuka."
And so Ritsuka had found himself on Soubi's bed, his blue coat unzipped and pulled down to his elbows, locking his arms at his sides. He hadn't liked that at first; he had, in fact, been tempted to yell at Soubi to stop. It had reminded him of being restrained in battle, of the helpless sensation of being under someone else's complete control. But Soubi had smiled at him and had cupped his chin as they kissed, and Ritsuka felt no danger in the restraint. Instead, the coat holding his arms back was just an extension of the embrace they shared. Ritsuka decided to let it be without protest.
Instead, he chose to pay attention to Soubi's mouth on his bare shoulder and to long fingers slipping under the hem of his tank. He sucked in his stomach as goosebumps rose on his flesh and his abdominal muscles twitched.
Ritsuka felt fingertips brush across his chest, so lightly that it was more of a tingle than a touch on his skin and he convulsed in a spasm of tickles. But his arms were pinned and all he succeeded in moving was his hips. Soubi groaned softly.
"Ritsuka, can I-"
"Don't ask. Just do."
Soubi smiled and in one swift movement he had pushed Ritsuka's shirt above his rib cage and was dragging a slick tongue up an invisible line that bisected Ritsuka's torso. Ritsuka shivered.
He found that he had no control over the twitching of his legs, or the pitch of his voice, or the bucking of his hips. Yuiko had joked once that with all of their talk of mastery and servitude, they might enjoy a bit of bondage whenever they got around to "doing it." Ritsuka had scowled, speechless, but now blushed to admit that she may have been right. But he was sure that he didn't enjoy the restraints in the usual way; he was finding more thrill from the sense of security they provided rather than from any sense of danger.
There was no danger as Soubi's fingers brushed over a nipple, making him gasp out as blood rushed to meet the older man's touch. There was no danger in the way Soubi's tongue followed his fingers, sliding in a slow circle around the hardened bud. No danger in anything as Soubi's other hand found the button of Ritsuka's pants. There was nothing to be afraid of, he told his trembling body. Stop shaking, he urged.
"Ritsuka, I'm going to take these off," Soubi said, sliding his fingers under the waistband of his pants.
Ritsuka supposed that was probably as close to "not asking permission" as Soubi would ever get. Instead of complaining, Ritsuka simply lifted his hips to allow the garment's removal as a new wave of blush washed over his cheeks. As he heard his pants drop to the floor and felt Soubi's hands slip down the length of his thighs, he tried not to notice himself straining at his underwear. It was embarrassing but it was just another thing over which he had no control.
He wasn't left much time to agonize over it, however, as he felt Soubi's body shift. Long legs folded, long hair trailed Ritsuka's abdomen, and soon the taller man was resting between Ritsuka's knees.
"I love you," he said, sliding his nose along Ritsuka's inner thigh.
Ritsuka swallowed and cursed his shaking leg. How embarrassing. Wasn't he supposed to be proving that he wasn't a kid anymore? He felt Soubi smile against his leg.
"I-I'm sorry," he squeaked.
"Why?"
"I'm shaking."
"I know," Soubi said, flicking his tongue out to the sensitive skin near the junction of thigh and groin, "I'm flattered, Ritsuka."
A whimper fought its way from Ritsuka's throat and his hips bucked again. A hand reached up to rest on what he knew to be a heavy blush over his cheeks.
"So cute, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka turned his head to press his lips to Soubi's fingers as he felt the pink on his cheeks deepening. When Soubi's tongue slid up the hardened length all too evident as it stretched the fabric of underwear, Ritsuka wasn't sure if the blush on his face was entirely the result of embarrassment anymore. He had a feeling that it had something to do with the quaking of his muscles. Or maybe it could be linked to the broken begging falling from his lips or the way he couldn't control the upward jerking of his eyebrows. But it certainly wasn't all from embarrassment. That was perhaps the thing furthest from his mind at the moment.
About the only thing he could concentrate on was Soubi's tongue. It was so warm and he could feel the humidity of his breath warm then cool through his underpants. The older man made another pass with his tongue, the sensation simultaneously far too strong and nowhere near strong enough.
"Soubi!" Ritsuka cried.
Blue eyes rose between his bent knees, glasses long-abandoned, eyebrows arched in inquisition.
"Stop that! Wait - I mean don't stop, but quit doing it like that!" Ritsuka raced out in a single breath.
"Like what?" Soubi asked, rubbing his nose up the length again, making the fabric shift enticingly.
"Like that! Like that! Stop it!"
Soubi smirked. "How should I do it?"
"Soubi! You know how!"
"Yes, master," he whispered, licked one last time, and Ritsuka watched him slip the waistband of his underpants in his mouth. He felt Soubi grip them with his teeth and begin to tug them over his hips, wiggling them back and forth until they encircled his knees.
Soubi looked up, his eyelids lower and his eyes more beautiful that Ritsuka had ever seen them. "Is this better, Ritsuka?"
He nodded, gasping as he felt Soubi's breath make direct contact with his heated flesh. There was that flush again. And there was Soubi's mouth. Heat pressed to heat and as Ritsuka's body tried to jerk into the contact, he found his knees as well as his arms bound. Only his hips moved as Soubi's mouth encased him and sent a charge shooting through all of his fingers and toes. It felt like death and it was sweet.
Soubi's long hair swept along the insides of his thighs, raising goosebumps and the pitch of his cries. Ritsuka, bound, found only his mind could react to the touches and the anticipation, and he found, too, that his mind was a paranoid thing when left to its own devices. It anticipated many attacks, seemed to think that Soubi was in possession of far more hands and lips than he actually was. Every brush of fingers, every swipe of hair, every gentle scrape of fingernails was loaded with the tingling, burning, pleading sensation of a million more.
It felt like trying to drown himself.
It felt like trying to burn himself.
It felt like four years of subtle hints and overt pleas, of growing back into his old skin, of growing into something new, of finding the ability to choose love. But more than anything, it felt like Soubi and it was good.
Soubi's tongue swirled around him, up and down him, bringing the edge to him. He felt the lips slide up, felt the man's eyes on him. When he returned the gaze, Soubi mouthed, "I love you," words he should have grown indifferent to but never had. Then the mouth was back on him, light was flashing behind his eyelids, and his hips bucked up hard. He felt Soubi's mouth work to swallow as he settled boneless, back onto the pillow.
Ritsuka's eyes began to fight for awareness as he watched Soubi reach for tissues at the bedside.
"Beautiful, Ritsuka," he heard him say as he felt tissues dab at him.
He sighed and tried in vain to stretch his arms and legs. "Thank you," he muttered.
Soubi smiled as he began to unbutton his shirt. "Are we finished?" he asked, pausing on the third button.
Ritsuka blushed and looked to the side, shivering when he felt fingernails slide down his torso. "No," he whispered and arched into the fingers.
He could only lift his legs to accommodate the removal of his underpants from around his knees.
"Should we leave the shirt?" Soubi asked with a smirk.
Ritsuka wiggled in an ambiguous way that neither could really interpret and let Soubi help him sit up. It should have been a simple act, a simple slip of fabric, but nothing was simple with Soubi. Ritsuka trembled as large hands ran down his bare upper arms to meet the coat bunched around his elbows. Long thumbs rubbing back and forth on their traverse downward were almost as strong a stimulus as Soubi's mouth and tongue had been only moments before. Insistent fingers wedging themselves between fabric ad skin, fluttering in a teasing way at the surprising sensitivity of inner elbow made Ritsuka's breath catch. Still restrained and depending entirely on Soubi for balance, he could only arch his back and push out a soft growl in response.
"So impatient," he felt Soubi whisper in breaths against his ear.
Ritsuka wiggled again and Soubi pushed his jacket off the rest of the way. Free and needful, his arms launched themselves around Soubi's neck.
"I missed this, Ritsuka," Soubi said and Ritsuka sighed as he felt himself embraced around his middle.
Ritsuka pushed away after only a moment, looking down and blushing as his fingers moved to finish the work Soubi had started on the shirt buttons. He blushed deeper as more pale chest was revealed and he swore that he could see Soubi's frantic heartbeat. Not that he should be surprised; his own heart was pumping so fast that he was sure he didn't have enough blood to support its insatiable thirst. He wondered when his veins would run dry. Still, he marveled at Soubi's restraint. He remembered the way his own body, his own mind had trembled, the way his hips had bucked in ardor. As he watched Soubi's eyes slide closed and the older man drew in a shaking, stabilizing breath, Ritsuka realized that this restraint was for him. This tenderness was reserved for Ritsuka alone.
His fingers couldn't undo Soubi's buttons fast enough. They raced themselves with such haste that they almost tangled together and Soubi laughed. Ritsuka took in a sharp gasp as long fingers laced with his own and guided them until each button was free and the shirt was pooled on the bed around Soubi's hips.
Ritsuka reached tentative hands up to rest them on Soubi's shoulders. His skin was smooth and heated and blushing. Ritsuka didn't contain nearly the other's level of restraint, not nearly enough to resist leaning forward and flicking a nervous tongue out at a pink nipple. The most beautiful thing he would ever hear was the sharp hiss that escaped Soubi's mouth. It was intoxicating. He licked again. Soubi's fingers gripped tighter on his waist.
"You learn fast, Ritsuka," Soubi whispered, "What else can you do?"
Ritsuka blushed, but didn't hesitate to push his lips onto various places on Soubi's chest, connecting each point of contact with small swipes of tongue. He trembled as Soubi arched against him and moaned. Fingers teased absently at the furry ears atop his head and they flattened instinctively.
"So cute," Soubi gasped.
Ritsuka's hands slid slowly down Soubi's abdomen, coming to rest over the waist of his pants.
"Soubi," he whispered and watched goosebumps rise on the older man's chest at the feel of his breath.
Soubi nuzzled softly on the top of his head as the button of his pants was popped free. Ritsuka felt the rumble of Soubi's groan more than he heard it. He blushed to realize what a long time four years was, especially to an adult who had already lost his ears. Ritsuka knew how unbearable that time had been for him and he hadn't even known what he was missing.
"Stand up, Soubi," he said. "Stand up."
He watched as Soubi disentangled himself and rose from the bed. Slowly, he pushed his pants and undergarments down together, revealing long, pale legs and narrow hips. Ritsuka blushed as he tried not to look between Soubi's legs. It was, however, an impossible task and his mind tried to convince his body that maybe this wasn't the best of ideas. Though he had grown taller, he was still narrow, still small for his age. And Soubi…most definitely was not.
But Soubi smiled at him. "It's okay to look, Ritsuka," he said.
Ritsuka made a small, embarrassed noise and fisted his hands in his lap. Soubi knelt with one knee on the bed and put a hand on the other's shoulder. "I promise I won't hurt you, Ritsuka," he said.
Ritsuka looked down and the space between his eyebrows creased. How much was it supposed to hurt?
"Don't make promises you can't keep," he whispered, a phrase he hadn't uttered for years, "The only way it won't hurt is if we don't do it."
"We don't have to," Soubi said and Ritsuka frowned at the hardness between Soubi's legs.
"Idiot," he muttered, "Why wouldn't I want to do it?"
Soubi nodded. "Then I will try to hurt you as little as possible," he said, "I love you, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka let himself be pressed backward onto the bed, Soubi's forehead resting on his own. He closed his eyes as a tongue entered his mouth and he heard Soubi fumbling in the nightstand for the small bottle Ritsuka knew had been there, unused for four years. Did that stuff go bad?
But he forgot his ponderings as a hand slid between his legs and fingers stroked at his entrance. He could tell that the fingers were still dry, that Soubi was probably just trying to make him accustomed to the sensation. Ritsuka twitched as he heard the cap snapping open on the bottle in Soubi's hand. The hand pulled away from between his legs for a moment, then returned, slicker. The oil felt instantly warm, quickly matching his body temperature, and Ritsuka felt something akin to heat stroke conducting through his body.
Four years were ravaged, obliterated, blown to smithereens as a finger pressed him open. It stung, of course it did, but there was such gentleness in the invasion that Ritsuka fought to keep his expression neutral.
"I love you," Soubi said, his voice losing composure again, as he pressed further in.
Ritsuka fought against the tightening for which his muscles longed. He wouldn't ruin this. He wasn't a kid anymore. He could handle this. He-
Now there were two fingers.
-winced and whimpered.
"Ritsuka, tell me if I need to stop."
Ritsuka nodded. He wanted this. He wanted to feel more of Soubi, more of his friend, his - would it be "lover," now? He supposed that was right. That's what Yuiko would call it and Yayoi would whimper at the word gracing her lips. Kio would probably call it something cruder, but Ritsuka felt compelled to side with Yuiko, just this once.
Two fingers fully inside, pressing and stretching, all thought fled Ritsuka's mind. Soubi would pause when Ritsuka would hiss, and Ritsuka would feel lips and tongue on his neck. The older man was trying to distract him and it was working. He could feel the heat of Soubi's face against his cheek, could feel warm breath on his ear, hair tickling at his neck. He could smell Soubi, a clean, musky smell. He was especially musky tonight.
Soon, Ritsuka felt himself responding to the fingers moving inside him. He began to shift his hips a bit in opposition to Soubi's attentions, his toes dug into the mattress, guiding his body against the older man's hand. He could swear that he heard Soubi growl. He most certainly felt him pant against his chest. Ritsuka pushed down once more and felt Soubi's fingers curled upward and there. He cried out, his back arching, Soubi smiling down from above him.
"There?" he asked, blue eyes holding him in place.
Ritsuka's mouth quavered, only a small gasp coming out. The ears on top of his head twitched. He felt Soubi's fingers stroke at him again and his head slammed back onto the pillow. Every hair on his body stood on end as he choked out sobs and twisted his fingers in Soubi's hair.
"Soubi!" he shouted the first syllable, moaned the second.
"I love you, Ritsuka."
"Soubi..." he whispered.
"Are you ready, Ritsuka?" Soubi asked, pushing his tongue up the shell of Ritsuka's ear.
Ritsuka nodded in a jerky motion, unable to open his eyes or speak. He slid his hand through light hair, curving his fingers over the back of Soubi's head and bringing the older man's mouth over his own. Soubi's taste was musky, too, Ritsuka thought, as he slid his tongue inside an inviting mouth. Soubi's tongue stroked at his, a more desperate cadence to its movements than before. A few more strokes and the tongue was gone and Soubi held himself up on straightened arms with locked elbows. One hand slid down to his hip, urging him to roll over. Ritsuka hesitated but ultimately obeyed after a reassuring smile spread over Soubi's face.
"I won't hurt you."
Ritsuka frowned but found his face buried in a pillow with Soubi's hand stroking his hair. Long fingers tickled his cat ears.
"I'm going to miss these, Ritsuka," he said and Ritsuka could hear the smirk in his voice, "Are you sure you want to get rid of them."
Ritsuka growled and pulled his knees under his body, his bottom in the air, his tail curved over his back.
"I'm not going to miss them," Ritsuka murmured into the pillow.
He felt Soubi's eyes sweep over him, his small body a languid, quivering isosceles on the linen mattress. He felt a hand tickle the bottom of his foot, slip up his ankle, over his calf, pause to pay special attention to the sensitive bend of knee, and travel up the back of his thigh with its fingertips. The palm curved up over his bottom and stopped.
Ritsuka heard Soubi's other hand snap the bottle cap open again and he felt oil drip onto him and slide down at a dream-like pace. And there were those fingers again, not pressing in this time, but moving the oil around, like they would if they were cleaning a wound. Then the fingers were gone and Soubi was curved over his back.
"Ready, Ritsuka?" he whispered into his ear.
Ritsuka nodded and shivered as Soubi bit down gently on his cat ears and slid his teeth over them.
Soubi remained bent over his back like a shell as he pressed himself to Ritsuka's entrance. Completely covered, Soubi's hands on his wrists, Ritsuka mewled at the contact and pushed backward against it.
He opened. It was both much easier and much more painful than he had expected after being exposed to Soubi's fingers. Ritsuka squeaked but fought his tensing muscles and relaxed. He knew to relax; Soubi didn't need to tell him to. They'd talked about this at length, over the phone, through text messages, in heated debates. Ritsuka still blushed furiously when the topic came up - was probably blushing at the very moment, in fact - but as the years and his hormone levels increased, he'd asked with more frequency. He'd anticipated it all.
He was surprised at how accurate his imagination, at how close his fantasies had been to the real thing. As Soubi slid in, Ritsuka bit into the pillow and was amazed that he had already known what the man would feel like. He'd imagined the contours, the hardness, the way their skin, their heat would slide together.
What he hadn't anticipated was the noise bursting from Soubi's throat. Soubi, usually so stoic, reserved, controlled. Soubi who embodied "composure." Soubi who was moaning in a way that made Ritsuka press his hips into the mattress for more friction.
Ritsuka let out a long gasp as Soubi's entering slowed to a stop. He imagined that he'd probably taken half of Soubi's length; Soubi had said that was likely to happen. Ritsuka quivered around him, letting them catch their breath for a moment.
"Soubi-"
"Please don't ask me to stop now, Ritsuka," he said with a choked, trembling voice.
"Soubi, you can move now," Ritsuka said, muffled by the pillow.
Soubi groaned and Ritsuka felt his hips begin to slide. Just like he'd imagined. Just like he'd hoped. Just like he'd longed for over the past four years. His face was pressed into the pillow as Soubi moved into him. It smelled like Soubi and Ritsuka let a small mewl slip from between his lips. The first full thrust and sent Soubi farther into him and Ritsuka let out a soft sigh, feeling more heat from the man above him.
"Ritsuka..." he gasped more than spoke, "this may not take long."
Ritsuka squeaked and pressed backward swiftly, making Soubi choke and grasp at his hips.
"Slow down, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka smiled into the pillow and pushed back again. Soubi dug his fingers deeper into his hips.
"Ritsuka, please..."
"Why?" he asked with a smirk.
Soubi paused in his rhythm and Ritsuka knew that a slow smile was creeping over his face. Their bond was certainly stronger now.
"You weren't this troublesome earlier, Ritsuka," he said.
Ritsuka began to turn his head to see the older man but was soon pressed back to the pillow.
"I seem to remember this helping," he heard Soubi say from behind him and felt his arms being pushed over his head. One large hand traveled up his arm and gripped them together at the wrists. Ritsuka was pinned.
He was pinned and he didn't mind one bit. He could only move his hips now, could only respond when Soubi moved forward. He couldn't see, he couldn't move. All he could do was feel. He felt all the things he'd waited to feel for so long. He felt Soubi slide in and out; felt more of him, then less, but he always felt him. Soubi never completely left him. Ritsuka lifted his hips to meet each stroke and listened to Soubi's breaths grow closer together and more frantic.
Every sensation tingled. He could feel Soubi's breath, feel his hair sweeping up and down his back. He could smell the musk and the soap. Each fingertip pressed into his wrists had an aura all its own, heating his skin and giving him chills. The garbled words falling from Soubi's mouth raised goosebumps on his back. He heard his name mingling with "love" and "please" and broken syllables that he couldn't decipher. He bucked.
Soubi gasped and slid his other hand to the small of Ritsuka's back. He pressed down and the angle of their hips changed. Lights exploded around Ritsuka's mind and he cried out when Soubi brushed against that same spot he had reached earlier with his fingers. Soubi moaned and applied more pressure to Ritsuka's back, curving the line of his small body into a gentle slope from the tips of his bound, outstretched fingers to where his body met Soubi's in the air.
Ritsuka felt Soubi's teeth on his neck, his breath on his cheek.
"I love you, Ritsuka."
"Soubi..." he whimpered and they both knew what he meant.
"I- I'm going to-"
Ritsuka slid his hips back once, hard, and felt Soubi move up to meet him. He felt Soubi's hand grip around his wrists, felt the other dig its fingers into his hip. He heard him cry out loud, felt the humidity of the cry land on his shoulder. He felt Soubi's entire body tense, felt him release inside (was that possible?), and felt a long moan tear itself from his own body.
"Ritsuka..."
And they collapsed onto the mattress, fingers tangled together, legs entwined and breaths falling into synchronicity and a gentler rhythm as they fell asleep together, bare and exposed, vulnerable and unmindful.
***
"Hey! Get up and put some clothes on!"
Ritsuka blinked slow and pushed against the resistance encircling his chest for a moment before recognizing it as Soubi's arm. He rolled his shoulders and looked at the three faces staring at them from the doorway.
"Looks like we're just in time," Youji said with a grin.
"Yeah," Natsuo followed, holding up a small, festive bag.
"Happy birthday," Kio huffed, eyes stealing sneaky, darting glances at Soubi's slumbering body stretched out on the mattress, barely covered with a sheet. He didn't add "pervert," but Ritsuka knew he was thinking it.
Natsuo tossed the bad onto the bed and Ritsuka fingered it tentatively. He frowned, but opened it. His eyes widened and his free hand shot up to rub at the top of his head. The ears were gone.
He slipped the fake pair out of the bad and held them up to the light.
"We figured you had to go back to school sometime, " Youji said with a shrug.
This is my first attempt at this fandom and I'm not sure if I got their characters right. I apologize if I raped anyone's favorite character here. :/
Again, this is probably of NO INTEREST to anyone but that perv Kat, who is to blame for this sin against gawd.
Title: Er, Untitled I guess. (Because "Earless" would be too cliche.)
Rating: NC-17 and beyond! To the moon, Alice!
Fandom: Loveless
Pairing: Soubi/Ritsuka
Warning: Mm, lots of smex, itsy bitsy teensy weensy spoilers for end of series
Summary: You know those cute little ears on Ritsuka's head? They're outta here!
"I love you."
He'd heard it a million times. More times than he could count. Enough times in the last four years to all but strip him of his name, to all but reduce him to believing those silly words.
But it was different this time. Different. There was something different in the register of Soubi's voice, and his control of it. Something different in the way that long-fingered hands gripped at him, at his clothes. Something different about how a warm, pink tongue was sliding gently along his bottom lip.
Not that he hadn't felt Soubi's tongue before. Not that Soubi hadn't lain on top of him and kissed him, running large adult hands down his arms. Not that he hadn't thought about this countless times in the last four years. Not that it didn't feel like the right thing to do. It was just...different.
He'd waited. Not always patiently, but the important thing was that he did, in fact, wait just as Soubi had requested. He'd counted the moments, the sunrises, the text messages, the gentle refusals, the days until this day. His sixteenth birthday. It all seemed rather grand and cliched, but Soubi had insisted on waiting. And so they had.
And it had been worth it, Ritsuka thought, as Soubi's lips slid from earlobe to neck to collarbone to throat. It had been worth the wait, the begging, the phone calls that escalated from "How was school?" to "Soubi!" as Soubi whispered heated words to him. It had been unbearable, but they had waited and the long repression had led them to Soubi's bed.
Even on this day, the wait had been painful. Yuiko and Yayoi had joined them for a small celebration and had stayed...and stayed...and stayed... It was such a long visit. And Soubi was so accommodating. And Ritsuka had wanted nothing more than to push them out the door, send them with a plate of cake, a canteen of punch, anything to get them to leave them alone!
But as soon as Yuiko's pink tail had swished out, the door was closed swiftly behind her and Ritsuka had turned, pressed his back against the door, and blushed. Soubi had smiled, unreadable, and began to gather the plates and cups from the table, enjoying silently the small growl that had worked its way out of Ritsuka's throat.
"Soubi!" he had whined, forceful and hesitant at the same time, sounding every bit like the frightened, melancholy boy that Soubi remembered.
Soubi had turned slowly, hands occupied with dishes, and smiled kindly, his eyebrows rising in question.
Ritsuka had blushed and looked down. "I just...well, weren't we...I mean..."
"If it's for Ritsuka, there's nothing I can't do."
Soubi's eyes had registered the quiver in Ritsuka's jaw and the clenching of his fists.
"Did you want more cake?" Soubi had offered, still with that impenetrable smile.
Ritsuka's lips pursed for a moment before he looked up again, pink ravaging his cheeks, and his eyes wild.
"Idiot!" he had said and crossed the room in three steps with legs that had certainly grown longer in the four years since they had first met. He would likely never be as tall as Seimei, but he came fully up to Soubi's chin now and took advantage of this fact by reaching up to pull the older man's lips down onto his own.
Ritsuka had noticed that Soubi's eyes had gone wide for a brief moment as he struggled to balance both himself and the stack of plates, but he'd recovered nicely using Ritsuka's mouth for leverage.
"Can we..." Ritsuka had muttered, as they pulled apart for air.
"Say it," Soubi whispered, "Anything for Ritsuka."
Ritsuka tensed and pulled his mouth away. That had been the last thing he'd wanted to hear. He didn't want to think about commands and obedience, masters and servants. Not at this moment, not as he watched Soubi put the dishes down and as he felt those hands slide around his waist, lacing together behind his back.
And even that comfortable, familiar embrace felt so different. It was different, wasn't it? Wasn't this their chance to come together as blood-equals, not as fighter and sacrifice, or even as friends? Despite the heat of tongue-on-tongue, Ritsuka felt himself pushing out of the embrace.
"Ritsuka...?"
Ritsuka reached for his coat. "I think I'm going home," he said, eyes trained to the floor and the remnants of a blush still present on his cheeks.
"Ritsuka," Soubi had said again, "...Are you scared?"
"Soubi!"
"It's all right to be scared, Ritsuka."
"I'm not scared!"
Ritsuka flushed as he was pulled into a new embrace and felt Soubi's head rest atop his own. He knew this to be Soubi's way to calm him down and, like some Pavlovian bell, it had come to be very effective over the past four years.
"What's wrong? Tell me what you want and I will do it."
Ritsuka growled and pushed his arms away. "Idiot! That's what's wrong!"
Ritsuka had watched as Soubi dropped his arms to his sides and blinked.
"Ritsuka..."
"I don't want you t-to do this," he motioned between them wildly, "because I told you to!"
Soubi blinked again. "Then what do you want, Ritsuka?"
"For you to stop that!" he growled, "For you to quit asking me what I want!"
Ritsuka pulled away as Soubi reached for him again.
"I want you to do this because you want to, you idiot!"
Soubi had ignored Ritsuka's protests then and had hugged him tightly around the shoulders. "I understand," he had whispered, "Well said, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka had blinked as he was reminded of a terrifying dream he had once had.
"Soubi..."
"Ritsuka."
"So, we can..."
Soubi had smiled. "Of course," he'd said, "because I love you, Ritsuka."
And so Ritsuka had found himself on Soubi's bed, his blue coat unzipped and pulled down to his elbows, locking his arms at his sides. He hadn't liked that at first; he had, in fact, been tempted to yell at Soubi to stop. It had reminded him of being restrained in battle, of the helpless sensation of being under someone else's complete control. But Soubi had smiled at him and had cupped his chin as they kissed, and Ritsuka felt no danger in the restraint. Instead, the coat holding his arms back was just an extension of the embrace they shared. Ritsuka decided to let it be without protest.
Instead, he chose to pay attention to Soubi's mouth on his bare shoulder and to long fingers slipping under the hem of his tank. He sucked in his stomach as goosebumps rose on his flesh and his abdominal muscles twitched.
Ritsuka felt fingertips brush across his chest, so lightly that it was more of a tingle than a touch on his skin and he convulsed in a spasm of tickles. But his arms were pinned and all he succeeded in moving was his hips. Soubi groaned softly.
"Ritsuka, can I-"
"Don't ask. Just do."
Soubi smiled and in one swift movement he had pushed Ritsuka's shirt above his rib cage and was dragging a slick tongue up an invisible line that bisected Ritsuka's torso. Ritsuka shivered.
He found that he had no control over the twitching of his legs, or the pitch of his voice, or the bucking of his hips. Yuiko had joked once that with all of their talk of mastery and servitude, they might enjoy a bit of bondage whenever they got around to "doing it." Ritsuka had scowled, speechless, but now blushed to admit that she may have been right. But he was sure that he didn't enjoy the restraints in the usual way; he was finding more thrill from the sense of security they provided rather than from any sense of danger.
There was no danger as Soubi's fingers brushed over a nipple, making him gasp out as blood rushed to meet the older man's touch. There was no danger in the way Soubi's tongue followed his fingers, sliding in a slow circle around the hardened bud. No danger in anything as Soubi's other hand found the button of Ritsuka's pants. There was nothing to be afraid of, he told his trembling body. Stop shaking, he urged.
"Ritsuka, I'm going to take these off," Soubi said, sliding his fingers under the waistband of his pants.
Ritsuka supposed that was probably as close to "not asking permission" as Soubi would ever get. Instead of complaining, Ritsuka simply lifted his hips to allow the garment's removal as a new wave of blush washed over his cheeks. As he heard his pants drop to the floor and felt Soubi's hands slip down the length of his thighs, he tried not to notice himself straining at his underwear. It was embarrassing but it was just another thing over which he had no control.
He wasn't left much time to agonize over it, however, as he felt Soubi's body shift. Long legs folded, long hair trailed Ritsuka's abdomen, and soon the taller man was resting between Ritsuka's knees.
"I love you," he said, sliding his nose along Ritsuka's inner thigh.
Ritsuka swallowed and cursed his shaking leg. How embarrassing. Wasn't he supposed to be proving that he wasn't a kid anymore? He felt Soubi smile against his leg.
"I-I'm sorry," he squeaked.
"Why?"
"I'm shaking."
"I know," Soubi said, flicking his tongue out to the sensitive skin near the junction of thigh and groin, "I'm flattered, Ritsuka."
A whimper fought its way from Ritsuka's throat and his hips bucked again. A hand reached up to rest on what he knew to be a heavy blush over his cheeks.
"So cute, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka turned his head to press his lips to Soubi's fingers as he felt the pink on his cheeks deepening. When Soubi's tongue slid up the hardened length all too evident as it stretched the fabric of underwear, Ritsuka wasn't sure if the blush on his face was entirely the result of embarrassment anymore. He had a feeling that it had something to do with the quaking of his muscles. Or maybe it could be linked to the broken begging falling from his lips or the way he couldn't control the upward jerking of his eyebrows. But it certainly wasn't all from embarrassment. That was perhaps the thing furthest from his mind at the moment.
About the only thing he could concentrate on was Soubi's tongue. It was so warm and he could feel the humidity of his breath warm then cool through his underpants. The older man made another pass with his tongue, the sensation simultaneously far too strong and nowhere near strong enough.
"Soubi!" Ritsuka cried.
Blue eyes rose between his bent knees, glasses long-abandoned, eyebrows arched in inquisition.
"Stop that! Wait - I mean don't stop, but quit doing it like that!" Ritsuka raced out in a single breath.
"Like what?" Soubi asked, rubbing his nose up the length again, making the fabric shift enticingly.
"Like that! Like that! Stop it!"
Soubi smirked. "How should I do it?"
"Soubi! You know how!"
"Yes, master," he whispered, licked one last time, and Ritsuka watched him slip the waistband of his underpants in his mouth. He felt Soubi grip them with his teeth and begin to tug them over his hips, wiggling them back and forth until they encircled his knees.
Soubi looked up, his eyelids lower and his eyes more beautiful that Ritsuka had ever seen them. "Is this better, Ritsuka?"
He nodded, gasping as he felt Soubi's breath make direct contact with his heated flesh. There was that flush again. And there was Soubi's mouth. Heat pressed to heat and as Ritsuka's body tried to jerk into the contact, he found his knees as well as his arms bound. Only his hips moved as Soubi's mouth encased him and sent a charge shooting through all of his fingers and toes. It felt like death and it was sweet.
Soubi's long hair swept along the insides of his thighs, raising goosebumps and the pitch of his cries. Ritsuka, bound, found only his mind could react to the touches and the anticipation, and he found, too, that his mind was a paranoid thing when left to its own devices. It anticipated many attacks, seemed to think that Soubi was in possession of far more hands and lips than he actually was. Every brush of fingers, every swipe of hair, every gentle scrape of fingernails was loaded with the tingling, burning, pleading sensation of a million more.
It felt like trying to drown himself.
It felt like trying to burn himself.
It felt like four years of subtle hints and overt pleas, of growing back into his old skin, of growing into something new, of finding the ability to choose love. But more than anything, it felt like Soubi and it was good.
Soubi's tongue swirled around him, up and down him, bringing the edge to him. He felt the lips slide up, felt the man's eyes on him. When he returned the gaze, Soubi mouthed, "I love you," words he should have grown indifferent to but never had. Then the mouth was back on him, light was flashing behind his eyelids, and his hips bucked up hard. He felt Soubi's mouth work to swallow as he settled boneless, back onto the pillow.
Ritsuka's eyes began to fight for awareness as he watched Soubi reach for tissues at the bedside.
"Beautiful, Ritsuka," he heard him say as he felt tissues dab at him.
He sighed and tried in vain to stretch his arms and legs. "Thank you," he muttered.
Soubi smiled as he began to unbutton his shirt. "Are we finished?" he asked, pausing on the third button.
Ritsuka blushed and looked to the side, shivering when he felt fingernails slide down his torso. "No," he whispered and arched into the fingers.
He could only lift his legs to accommodate the removal of his underpants from around his knees.
"Should we leave the shirt?" Soubi asked with a smirk.
Ritsuka wiggled in an ambiguous way that neither could really interpret and let Soubi help him sit up. It should have been a simple act, a simple slip of fabric, but nothing was simple with Soubi. Ritsuka trembled as large hands ran down his bare upper arms to meet the coat bunched around his elbows. Long thumbs rubbing back and forth on their traverse downward were almost as strong a stimulus as Soubi's mouth and tongue had been only moments before. Insistent fingers wedging themselves between fabric ad skin, fluttering in a teasing way at the surprising sensitivity of inner elbow made Ritsuka's breath catch. Still restrained and depending entirely on Soubi for balance, he could only arch his back and push out a soft growl in response.
"So impatient," he felt Soubi whisper in breaths against his ear.
Ritsuka wiggled again and Soubi pushed his jacket off the rest of the way. Free and needful, his arms launched themselves around Soubi's neck.
"I missed this, Ritsuka," Soubi said and Ritsuka sighed as he felt himself embraced around his middle.
Ritsuka pushed away after only a moment, looking down and blushing as his fingers moved to finish the work Soubi had started on the shirt buttons. He blushed deeper as more pale chest was revealed and he swore that he could see Soubi's frantic heartbeat. Not that he should be surprised; his own heart was pumping so fast that he was sure he didn't have enough blood to support its insatiable thirst. He wondered when his veins would run dry. Still, he marveled at Soubi's restraint. He remembered the way his own body, his own mind had trembled, the way his hips had bucked in ardor. As he watched Soubi's eyes slide closed and the older man drew in a shaking, stabilizing breath, Ritsuka realized that this restraint was for him. This tenderness was reserved for Ritsuka alone.
His fingers couldn't undo Soubi's buttons fast enough. They raced themselves with such haste that they almost tangled together and Soubi laughed. Ritsuka took in a sharp gasp as long fingers laced with his own and guided them until each button was free and the shirt was pooled on the bed around Soubi's hips.
Ritsuka reached tentative hands up to rest them on Soubi's shoulders. His skin was smooth and heated and blushing. Ritsuka didn't contain nearly the other's level of restraint, not nearly enough to resist leaning forward and flicking a nervous tongue out at a pink nipple. The most beautiful thing he would ever hear was the sharp hiss that escaped Soubi's mouth. It was intoxicating. He licked again. Soubi's fingers gripped tighter on his waist.
"You learn fast, Ritsuka," Soubi whispered, "What else can you do?"
Ritsuka blushed, but didn't hesitate to push his lips onto various places on Soubi's chest, connecting each point of contact with small swipes of tongue. He trembled as Soubi arched against him and moaned. Fingers teased absently at the furry ears atop his head and they flattened instinctively.
"So cute," Soubi gasped.
Ritsuka's hands slid slowly down Soubi's abdomen, coming to rest over the waist of his pants.
"Soubi," he whispered and watched goosebumps rise on the older man's chest at the feel of his breath.
Soubi nuzzled softly on the top of his head as the button of his pants was popped free. Ritsuka felt the rumble of Soubi's groan more than he heard it. He blushed to realize what a long time four years was, especially to an adult who had already lost his ears. Ritsuka knew how unbearable that time had been for him and he hadn't even known what he was missing.
"Stand up, Soubi," he said. "Stand up."
He watched as Soubi disentangled himself and rose from the bed. Slowly, he pushed his pants and undergarments down together, revealing long, pale legs and narrow hips. Ritsuka blushed as he tried not to look between Soubi's legs. It was, however, an impossible task and his mind tried to convince his body that maybe this wasn't the best of ideas. Though he had grown taller, he was still narrow, still small for his age. And Soubi…most definitely was not.
But Soubi smiled at him. "It's okay to look, Ritsuka," he said.
Ritsuka made a small, embarrassed noise and fisted his hands in his lap. Soubi knelt with one knee on the bed and put a hand on the other's shoulder. "I promise I won't hurt you, Ritsuka," he said.
Ritsuka looked down and the space between his eyebrows creased. How much was it supposed to hurt?
"Don't make promises you can't keep," he whispered, a phrase he hadn't uttered for years, "The only way it won't hurt is if we don't do it."
"We don't have to," Soubi said and Ritsuka frowned at the hardness between Soubi's legs.
"Idiot," he muttered, "Why wouldn't I want to do it?"
Soubi nodded. "Then I will try to hurt you as little as possible," he said, "I love you, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka let himself be pressed backward onto the bed, Soubi's forehead resting on his own. He closed his eyes as a tongue entered his mouth and he heard Soubi fumbling in the nightstand for the small bottle Ritsuka knew had been there, unused for four years. Did that stuff go bad?
But he forgot his ponderings as a hand slid between his legs and fingers stroked at his entrance. He could tell that the fingers were still dry, that Soubi was probably just trying to make him accustomed to the sensation. Ritsuka twitched as he heard the cap snapping open on the bottle in Soubi's hand. The hand pulled away from between his legs for a moment, then returned, slicker. The oil felt instantly warm, quickly matching his body temperature, and Ritsuka felt something akin to heat stroke conducting through his body.
Four years were ravaged, obliterated, blown to smithereens as a finger pressed him open. It stung, of course it did, but there was such gentleness in the invasion that Ritsuka fought to keep his expression neutral.
"I love you," Soubi said, his voice losing composure again, as he pressed further in.
Ritsuka fought against the tightening for which his muscles longed. He wouldn't ruin this. He wasn't a kid anymore. He could handle this. He-
Now there were two fingers.
-winced and whimpered.
"Ritsuka, tell me if I need to stop."
Ritsuka nodded. He wanted this. He wanted to feel more of Soubi, more of his friend, his - would it be "lover," now? He supposed that was right. That's what Yuiko would call it and Yayoi would whimper at the word gracing her lips. Kio would probably call it something cruder, but Ritsuka felt compelled to side with Yuiko, just this once.
Two fingers fully inside, pressing and stretching, all thought fled Ritsuka's mind. Soubi would pause when Ritsuka would hiss, and Ritsuka would feel lips and tongue on his neck. The older man was trying to distract him and it was working. He could feel the heat of Soubi's face against his cheek, could feel warm breath on his ear, hair tickling at his neck. He could smell Soubi, a clean, musky smell. He was especially musky tonight.
Soon, Ritsuka felt himself responding to the fingers moving inside him. He began to shift his hips a bit in opposition to Soubi's attentions, his toes dug into the mattress, guiding his body against the older man's hand. He could swear that he heard Soubi growl. He most certainly felt him pant against his chest. Ritsuka pushed down once more and felt Soubi's fingers curled upward and there. He cried out, his back arching, Soubi smiling down from above him.
"There?" he asked, blue eyes holding him in place.
Ritsuka's mouth quavered, only a small gasp coming out. The ears on top of his head twitched. He felt Soubi's fingers stroke at him again and his head slammed back onto the pillow. Every hair on his body stood on end as he choked out sobs and twisted his fingers in Soubi's hair.
"Soubi!" he shouted the first syllable, moaned the second.
"I love you, Ritsuka."
"Soubi..." he whispered.
"Are you ready, Ritsuka?" Soubi asked, pushing his tongue up the shell of Ritsuka's ear.
Ritsuka nodded in a jerky motion, unable to open his eyes or speak. He slid his hand through light hair, curving his fingers over the back of Soubi's head and bringing the older man's mouth over his own. Soubi's taste was musky, too, Ritsuka thought, as he slid his tongue inside an inviting mouth. Soubi's tongue stroked at his, a more desperate cadence to its movements than before. A few more strokes and the tongue was gone and Soubi held himself up on straightened arms with locked elbows. One hand slid down to his hip, urging him to roll over. Ritsuka hesitated but ultimately obeyed after a reassuring smile spread over Soubi's face.
"I won't hurt you."
Ritsuka frowned but found his face buried in a pillow with Soubi's hand stroking his hair. Long fingers tickled his cat ears.
"I'm going to miss these, Ritsuka," he said and Ritsuka could hear the smirk in his voice, "Are you sure you want to get rid of them."
Ritsuka growled and pulled his knees under his body, his bottom in the air, his tail curved over his back.
"I'm not going to miss them," Ritsuka murmured into the pillow.
He felt Soubi's eyes sweep over him, his small body a languid, quivering isosceles on the linen mattress. He felt a hand tickle the bottom of his foot, slip up his ankle, over his calf, pause to pay special attention to the sensitive bend of knee, and travel up the back of his thigh with its fingertips. The palm curved up over his bottom and stopped.
Ritsuka heard Soubi's other hand snap the bottle cap open again and he felt oil drip onto him and slide down at a dream-like pace. And there were those fingers again, not pressing in this time, but moving the oil around, like they would if they were cleaning a wound. Then the fingers were gone and Soubi was curved over his back.
"Ready, Ritsuka?" he whispered into his ear.
Ritsuka nodded and shivered as Soubi bit down gently on his cat ears and slid his teeth over them.
Soubi remained bent over his back like a shell as he pressed himself to Ritsuka's entrance. Completely covered, Soubi's hands on his wrists, Ritsuka mewled at the contact and pushed backward against it.
He opened. It was both much easier and much more painful than he had expected after being exposed to Soubi's fingers. Ritsuka squeaked but fought his tensing muscles and relaxed. He knew to relax; Soubi didn't need to tell him to. They'd talked about this at length, over the phone, through text messages, in heated debates. Ritsuka still blushed furiously when the topic came up - was probably blushing at the very moment, in fact - but as the years and his hormone levels increased, he'd asked with more frequency. He'd anticipated it all.
He was surprised at how accurate his imagination, at how close his fantasies had been to the real thing. As Soubi slid in, Ritsuka bit into the pillow and was amazed that he had already known what the man would feel like. He'd imagined the contours, the hardness, the way their skin, their heat would slide together.
What he hadn't anticipated was the noise bursting from Soubi's throat. Soubi, usually so stoic, reserved, controlled. Soubi who embodied "composure." Soubi who was moaning in a way that made Ritsuka press his hips into the mattress for more friction.
Ritsuka let out a long gasp as Soubi's entering slowed to a stop. He imagined that he'd probably taken half of Soubi's length; Soubi had said that was likely to happen. Ritsuka quivered around him, letting them catch their breath for a moment.
"Soubi-"
"Please don't ask me to stop now, Ritsuka," he said with a choked, trembling voice.
"Soubi, you can move now," Ritsuka said, muffled by the pillow.
Soubi groaned and Ritsuka felt his hips begin to slide. Just like he'd imagined. Just like he'd hoped. Just like he'd longed for over the past four years. His face was pressed into the pillow as Soubi moved into him. It smelled like Soubi and Ritsuka let a small mewl slip from between his lips. The first full thrust and sent Soubi farther into him and Ritsuka let out a soft sigh, feeling more heat from the man above him.
"Ritsuka..." he gasped more than spoke, "this may not take long."
Ritsuka squeaked and pressed backward swiftly, making Soubi choke and grasp at his hips.
"Slow down, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka smiled into the pillow and pushed back again. Soubi dug his fingers deeper into his hips.
"Ritsuka, please..."
"Why?" he asked with a smirk.
Soubi paused in his rhythm and Ritsuka knew that a slow smile was creeping over his face. Their bond was certainly stronger now.
"You weren't this troublesome earlier, Ritsuka," he said.
Ritsuka began to turn his head to see the older man but was soon pressed back to the pillow.
"I seem to remember this helping," he heard Soubi say from behind him and felt his arms being pushed over his head. One large hand traveled up his arm and gripped them together at the wrists. Ritsuka was pinned.
He was pinned and he didn't mind one bit. He could only move his hips now, could only respond when Soubi moved forward. He couldn't see, he couldn't move. All he could do was feel. He felt all the things he'd waited to feel for so long. He felt Soubi slide in and out; felt more of him, then less, but he always felt him. Soubi never completely left him. Ritsuka lifted his hips to meet each stroke and listened to Soubi's breaths grow closer together and more frantic.
Every sensation tingled. He could feel Soubi's breath, feel his hair sweeping up and down his back. He could smell the musk and the soap. Each fingertip pressed into his wrists had an aura all its own, heating his skin and giving him chills. The garbled words falling from Soubi's mouth raised goosebumps on his back. He heard his name mingling with "love" and "please" and broken syllables that he couldn't decipher. He bucked.
Soubi gasped and slid his other hand to the small of Ritsuka's back. He pressed down and the angle of their hips changed. Lights exploded around Ritsuka's mind and he cried out when Soubi brushed against that same spot he had reached earlier with his fingers. Soubi moaned and applied more pressure to Ritsuka's back, curving the line of his small body into a gentle slope from the tips of his bound, outstretched fingers to where his body met Soubi's in the air.
Ritsuka felt Soubi's teeth on his neck, his breath on his cheek.
"I love you, Ritsuka."
"Soubi..." he whimpered and they both knew what he meant.
"I- I'm going to-"
Ritsuka slid his hips back once, hard, and felt Soubi move up to meet him. He felt Soubi's hand grip around his wrists, felt the other dig its fingers into his hip. He heard him cry out loud, felt the humidity of the cry land on his shoulder. He felt Soubi's entire body tense, felt him release inside (was that possible?), and felt a long moan tear itself from his own body.
"Ritsuka..."
And they collapsed onto the mattress, fingers tangled together, legs entwined and breaths falling into synchronicity and a gentler rhythm as they fell asleep together, bare and exposed, vulnerable and unmindful.
***
"Hey! Get up and put some clothes on!"
Ritsuka blinked slow and pushed against the resistance encircling his chest for a moment before recognizing it as Soubi's arm. He rolled his shoulders and looked at the three faces staring at them from the doorway.
"Looks like we're just in time," Youji said with a grin.
"Yeah," Natsuo followed, holding up a small, festive bag.
"Happy birthday," Kio huffed, eyes stealing sneaky, darting glances at Soubi's slumbering body stretched out on the mattress, barely covered with a sheet. He didn't add "pervert," but Ritsuka knew he was thinking it.
Natsuo tossed the bad onto the bed and Ritsuka fingered it tentatively. He frowned, but opened it. His eyes widened and his free hand shot up to rub at the top of his head. The ears were gone.
He slipped the fake pair out of the bad and held them up to the light.
"We figured you had to go back to school sometime, " Youji said with a shrug.