The door slid shut near-silently and the two figures tumbled into the room.

The taller figure pressed the smaller one against the wall, both caught up in each other. Fingers buried in flaming crimson locks, eyes fluttered shut. Hands curving around a slender waist, lips pressed against a delicate jaw. The redhead pulled the other boy closer and they stumbled towards the bed clumsily, almost drunkenly.

Tell me what you want, you can have it all.

They fumbled with buckles and buttons in the dark, tugging them free gradually. The taller boy laughed softly and trails tender kisses across his companion’s temple to his jaw, and the smaller boy almost shivers, leaning into his touch. Hands searching, eyes closed, they moved slowly, working through layers of emotions. Fingers tracing the curves and dips of bodies, both searching for some kind of secret that would lead the other to come undone.

I have everything to give away.

One tug on the flimsy band and the dark locks fall around the smaller boy’s shoulders. And just like their control slipping away, it all comes loose.

The room was dark; the stars peeked in through the windows. The small slivers of light draped themselves heavily across the floor, and the taller boy pushed the Japanese youth against the soft bedspread. Both a little breathless, both all over one another. Both in a little too deep.

Let’s see how deep it can get.

The redhead ran his hands through that mess of dark ebony, splayed out brilliantly against the whiteness of the sheets, and he admires his companion almost reverently. He cannot help but want to feel the other boy with his hands, running them over the smooth skin of cheeks, tracing the curve of red lips. And all the while the oriental youth had hazy dark eyes trained at him, almost glinting in the dark.

All the emotions they had ever felt, it was right there, splayed on their faces to see. All exchanged, all spelt out in sensations. In touches, kisses and caresses. And the redheaded youth could not admit what he was: addicted.

It’s like some kind of unhealthy obsession.

He remembered them all. The shy glances they exchanged in the dining hall, the small brush of hands in the hallways. The fierce glares in battle, as much a plea as it was a warning not to lose. And the sweet stolen moments they took to fall in love.

He could never get enough.

You’re my dirty disease.

And Rabi saw it clear as day. But he could never say it, because he didn’t know how. It was need, want, hope. Kanda was his morphine. He made him feel real, feel true, for the first time in a long time.

Kanda was the only one who had ever known who he was, who he wasn’t and who he wanted to be.

And Rabi numbed the pain. He made Kanda forget just how close he was to death and how little of the line there was left to thread; he made the Japanese youth feel alive. Each touch, every moment, was a clear message in itself: he was not yet gone.

And they just could not get enough.

You don't know how hard i've fallen.

The dark-haired boy’s eyes are glazed over, his lips parted slightly. And with a heavy-lidded eye Rabi takes in the way his cheeks are tinted a pretty pink, and dark sapphires meet his steady gaze. In the darkness it was all he really needed to see, because he sees everything in those eyes that say nothing but mean everything all at once. They had never needed words.

Words had never been what they wanted.

He is tugged downwards for another scorching kiss. Their tongues followed some kind of knowing dance, hot and slick. Yet innocently, clumsily, all at once. Soft touches, skin against skin, lips pressed against flesh, as they worked through articles of clothing and fabric slowly, almost sluggishly. New smells, new taste, new sensations. They drank in every moment, dragging it out for as long as they wanted. Because they wanted to take their time, to be slow, to do it good.

No need for rushing, just go about it as you wish.

A simple pleasure for them that was really a given right.

They went slow, and it felt good all the while. And Rabi committed it to memory, the way the other boy kissed him almost shyly when he let sweet nothings and little confessions slip past his lips. He wanted to remember in every detail the tender touches and the burning caresses he thought about all the time. He wanted to remember how it had felt like for both of them to come undone; how it felt like for the Japanese youth to lay all his secrets bare for him to see; how it had felt like for the Kanda to give himself over to him.

It had meant so much more than anything else.

Just let me hold you.

It was more than sleeping together, more than mere lust and crude sexual desire. More than just the siren call of their bodies’ demands.

It had always been the both of them, too caught up in one another, never having enough and always wanting more. It had always been about making love, because they never used words and contact was what they needed. And it was all about reading into what it meant to have a body offered willingly to you, for you to take anything you wanted; for you want, to really want, to give and give and give until it almost felt like you were taking.

And then the lines start to blur.

And Rabi loved so much that it almost hurt. He wanted that burn, that bittersweet pleasure-agony only Kanda could make him feel. And Rabi wanted to make the other boy feel alright again. He wanted to let him forget everything that had left him just a little bit more broken than before.

He wanted to make him whole again.

And so here they were, making love.

It was the same as always, but it had always been different.

He wanted it, all the same.

In the darkness there was no talking, just contact and caresses that burned. Just small little sounds that escaped their throats, every breath and every soft sigh they took while they were tangled up in between the sheets.

The sliver of light was all that guided them and the stars watched on, the same unfeeling witnesses they always had been, watching in the moment they created a world for themselves.

And he watched that lovely face beneath him, face flushed and eyes slid shut in pleasure, a soft cry slipping past his lips; body arching up in bliss, dark locks thrown back carelessly against the pillows.

And god, it felt so right.

And when it was over, he did not know how long it had been afterwards that he spent watching the other boy, allowing himself to smile, just a little tired, but perfectly content. And he waited for the Japanese youth to be alright, sliding his arm around a slender waist, pressing kisses against the soft skin of a bare shoulder that looked even more beautiful with light sliding across the flesh. And he simply lay there, watching the shapes that they cast across the floor, two bodies melting together to form one dark shadow. Simply breathing in Kanda’s scent, light and smelling like some kind of home he had never had.

Dark eyes finally open at him. Still bare, still raw from lovemaking. And Rabi wondered if Kanda had ever noticed just how lovely he was, and he decided that he probably did not. But it was fine, because he was here to tell him that, and to enjoy his clumsy embarrassment.

It is too much, but you always want it still.

Rabi’s voice is tender and honest as he kisses Kanda’s ear, softly, quietly. It is barely more than a whisper, but Kanda hears it clearly. In that dark, silent room, his soft words are the only thing Kanda knows.

“I can’t get enough of you.”

Kanda accepts the brush of lips against his own, eyes falling shut as he kisses Rabi back, slowly. His answer is simple and it tells the other boy that he does not mind.

You feel it too, don’t you?

Rabi smiles sleepily and Kanda is warm against him. It smelled like them, a simple mix of their scents, and it is enough for them both to be lulled into sleep; tangled up in the sheets, silent comforts and unspoken confessions splayed out in the flesh.

It was just another night spent together, being just a little too caught up in each other.

And tomorrow you will want some more.

I love semi-dark RK. :) I thought them being addicted, really wanting each other, was a cool thing to experiment with.

Inspired by 'Addicted to you' by Saving Abel. No lyrics used though, all mine except characters.

Review? :D