Fandom: Fire Candy! Please read it, it's a great series, only two volumes. Well worth your time. snoopycool(dot)com(slash)manga(slash)fire(underscore)candy(slash)index(dot)html
Pairing: Leo/Fuku
Warnings: Dub-con? Sort of. On Leo's part, ha.
A/N: I shot myself in the foot with this fic. I really do survive off of feedback, and...the first fic I get done in months is one for which I am likely to get, uh, hardly any feedback at all...IF that... :'D -weeeeep-

He squints, slowly opening his eyes, aware only that there is yellow flickering light pouring down on him and it hurts badly. Eventually his eyes adjust and he recognizes that this is inside his apartment building; he’s lying on the cheap dirty carpet of the hallway, though he’s not sure how he got here. The last he can remember, he’d been in the alley, trying not to vomit up his guts, and—and Fuku kept on bugging him. And after that? They’d gone back in, he remembers suddenly. To see if that man was dead. But there’d been no body to be found, just blood stains on the ground. And a sudden panic had overtaken him. How pathetic.

“You passed out as I was trying to get you home,” Fuku mumbles shyly, standing over Leo and gazing down at him, “I dragged you here, but we need the key to get in and I didn’t want to dig around in your pockets.” Leo lets out a slow breath, sitting up and attempting to stand, realizing quickly it is not going to go well. He reluctantly accepts an offered hand and Fuku awkwardly gets Leo up, a challenge, to be sure, with his small frame. For that matter, how the hell had Fuku gotten Leo all the way here? Why would he go that far for Leo, on his own? Leo pushes that issue aside for a moment, starting to feel that crushing panic and anxiety closing in on him again, that fear; he needs to be inside his room, his bed. Now.

He digs hastily in his pockets, ripping out the key and trying to unlock the door; missing, at first, hitting it on the second try. He shoves the door open, practically spilling in, hardly noticing that Fuku follows.

“Do you want some tea or anything?” He notices that, though, glancing at Fuku unsteadily. He shakes his head, turning away from the other boy and stumbling towards his room. Fuku will get the hint and go away, he hopes. Of course, Fuku is more stubborn than that. As Leo is about to weakly collapse sitting onto the edge of his bed, a voice speaks up from the doorway.

“You’re all wet, Leo-kun. You shouldn’t go to sleep like that.” He sits down anyway, though, feeling too shaky to stand for a moment longer. Fuku lets out a huffy sigh, turning sharply on his heels and retreating for a moment, returning with a towel from the bathroom. His expression is strangely solemn, and he comes to stand before Leo, leaning down.

“If you won’t take care of yourself—” Fuku sighs, and begins rubbing along Leo’s chest, his arms, with the towel. Leo just watches the smaller boy with slightly narrowed eyes, not having the willpower to shove him away. After Fuku’s done with that, he takes the towel to Leo’s hair, rubbing perhaps a bit harshly, which causes considerable wincing.

“You need to take your shorts off, Leo-kun, they’re all wet too.” Leo hears the words, but just blinks, eyes gazing blankly up at Fuku, who gives yet another sigh.

“Lift your hips, then, I’ll get them off,” he murmurs, starting to get that shy expression once more. Leo’s eyes widen a bit, swallowing. He reluctantly does as Fuku asks, though he’s entirely unsure of why. He’s never been particularly close with Fuku, certainly never felt any whim to be obedient to him; his childlike look was simply too off-putting. Fuku’s fingers are relentlessly warm at his hips as they work their way under the waistband of his shorts—and boxers, he realizes a bit startled, beginning to tug them both off at once.

“W-wait a second,” Leo stammers, head spinning dizzily. Tonight is strange, too strange, he can’t forget the feeling of bone crushing under his fists. It’s too late, though, and Fuku has stripped him entirely, having to kneel down to the ground from his standing position in order to do so. He picks the towel back up, finishing his task of drying off Leo.

“Why are you doing this, Fuku-chan?” Leo asks, having long since averted his eyes. He can’t say no, not tonight, but yet he can’t watch. Fuku lets the towel drop to the ground, leaning his head forward slightly so that his forehead is leaning against Leo’s knees.

“I can’t stop watching you,” Fuku’s hands rest on the top of Leo’s thighs and it looks like he’s praying, which frightens Leo.

“I l-like you, because you’re not like Ryoki, you’ve got more human in you,” Fuku continues. Leo’s hand runs through his damp hair, fingers clutching at it desperately. This is too much for him.

“I wanna go to sleep,” he mutters, and he’s aware that he’s the one who sounds childish here, but he could care less. Fuku lets out a shuddering breath and nods, slowly pulling away from Leo and standing. He leans around Leo to tug the covers back, and Leo’s never really been tucked in. He bites his lower lip. Fuku pushes gently at his shoulders and he lies back; he’s so tired. Leo nestles down against his pillow, sighing, Fuku tugging the covers over him.

“Go to sleep, then,” Fuku mumbles, moving away from the bed and out of the room, and perhaps there’s something forceful to the way he tugs the door shut, but Leo is far past the point of caring, his body exhausted, his mind exhausted, everything’s reached its breaking point. He quickly finds it all slipping away.

…

Leo finds himself hazily awoken by a moist, warm suction around his dick, which is only semi-hard, but getting harder. This is a very strange thing, indeed. His eyes flutter open. His room is dim, the only light source coming from the doorway, where the door is half opened. Too dim for a human, maybe, but with his eyes he can see that the covers have been tugged off of him and there’s a head nestled in his lap, a head connected to a familiar small body, which is—nude. Leo’s cold, misses his covers, and that’s the most pressing item in his mind, too stunned by the rest to even react to it just yet.

Fuku sniffles, something wet dripping onto Leo’s hip.

“Fuku-chan?” Leo questions shakily, and Fuku darts up, the feeling of his mouth sliding off Leo’s erection giving the tan teen a shudder.

“What are you doing?” he asks, voice mainly just terribly confused. Fuku wipes hastily at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Just for tonight, Leo-kun,” he mumbles, Leo’s eyes going wide as Fuku’s knees go to either side of his hips, Fuku holding himself over Leo’s waist. Leo licks his lips, and eyes Fuku warily.

“I don’t—” he starts, but it’s already too late, Fuku is lowering himself slightly, no lubrication, no preparation, just a hand going to Leo’s cock, keeping it steady and guiding it. It’s really almost too tight, at first, Leo wincing as the head pushes its way in. Fuku lets out a small whimper but keeps going, hand leaving Leo and both of Fuku’s hands instead going to Leo’s chest, helping Fuku balance himself.

“Shit,” Leo hisses, Fuku gradually, centimeter by centimeter, taking Leo all the way in. More tears are dripping down Fuku’s cheeks, and he lets out a small, choked sob.

“Why are you doing this if it hurts?” Leo asks, voice a bit desperate, needing to know; he doesn’t understand this, not any of it, and if it were any other night he wouldn’t be allowing this, it isn’t right. Not for a first time. Fuku gives no answer, just shakes his head mutely, taking a moment to breathe shakily, seated fully on Leo’s lap, and such a tight heat, it’s almost unbearable. After what seems like hours of complete silence and stillness, Fuku begins moving, sliding up and down Leo’s length; it begins to get more comfortable, a bit looser, not quite so clenching. Fuku is limp, though, and Leo somehow doubts the discomfort has lessened for him.

Leo’s hands are fisted in his sheets, clenching at them with trembling fingers, but he gradually unfurls the fingers of his right hand, reaching to gently, hesitantly, rub at Fuku’s length, though he can hardly believe he is doing this. But then, isn’t that part of why he’s allowing this? Just to be a different person for one night. The normal Leo would never do this, but for tonight. Fuku lets out a small gasp, squeezing his eyes shut, though tears still leak out.

“D-don’t, Leo-kun,” he stammers, halting for a moment in his repetitive, hypnotic movement up and down Leo’s arousal. Leo lets out a small snort.

“Hypocrite. You didn’t exactly stop when I said no.” Fuku’s cheeks, which were slightly red and splotchy from the tears, begin to have a more even tinge of red, an actual flush. Despite what he says, Fuku’s body is quick to react to the soft touches. It’s very, very weird, Leo only having experience in touching his own—thing, before this. He’s starting to feel strange, something about Fuku’s breathy gasps, the warm weight of his dick in Leo’s hand. Leo, a bit shy and a bit slow, fearing hurting the other boy, pushes his hips up, reminding Fuku that he’d gone entirely still.

“M-mm,” Fuku tilts his head back, baring a pale throat that Leo longs to taste, to nibble at, though he hastily represses this urge. What the hell? Fuku gets the hint and goes back to moving his hips up and down, now aided by Leo thrusting up every now and then. Between that and Leo’s fingers and their gasps and pants and Fuku’s tears, a sort of rhythm is started, an addictive rhythm.

“L-leo,” Fuku sighs, eyes opening only halfway, fixing Leo with a more intense gaze than he’s ever seen in Fuku’s eyes before, though they remain hooded. They gain speed gradually, both of them pushing harder as well, Leo’s hips snapping up. It feels too good to resist, and something about the small cries Fuku makes—it’s driving him slowly insane, becoming more animalistic, going to that place he hates. He growls, the hand that was still clinging to his sheets instead gripping Fuku’s hip tightly, sharp teeth digging in to his lower lip. Feels good, smells good, a musky, heady scent that fills his entire mind.

He keeps going at a brutally fast, hard pace for just a few more moments, before clenching his eyes shut and letting out a sharp cry, pushing up hard into Fuku momentarily, then collapsing entirely back down to the sheets, hand falling limply off of Fuku’s hip, though the other hand keeps on fisting Fuku, wanting to make the other boy come. Which only takes a few more seconds anyway, the last waves of Leo’s orgasm intensified by a sudden spasm of tightness around him, warm come splattering onto his fingers and stomach.

Fuku sniffles again, wiping at his eyes once more.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he mumbles, glancing stubbornly off to the side. Leo shrugs, feeling very worn out, but somehow a bit better, a sense of release. Fuku climbs off of him, bare feet padding gently on Leo’s floor.

“I—” Fuku starts, before trailing off hopelessly.

“Yeah,” Leo mutters, clearing his throat.

“S-see you around,” Fuku offers up weakly, to which Leo chuckles at. Yes, and how awkward it would be. Fuku takes a deep breath, before leaning over Leo and kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“Don’t forget, Leo. You’re not like Ryoki. That’s—that’s why I love you.” Leo blinks after Fuku as he retreats from the room, the door clicking shut. Love? When did love enter the equation? Maybe that makes this alright, though.

His fingers lightly trace where Fuku’s lips had pressed against his cheek before he curls up on his side and waits for the world to fall away.