Title: Ava Adore
Author: Eris Mackenzie
Warnings: Shota-con (a.k.a. sexuality involving a young boy), adult male/boy sex, adult situations.
Spoilers: All volumes
Disclaimer: The characters are absolutely not mine. All of the original work (manga) goes to Yun Kouga and the creators of the Loveless anime. Also, the song "Mer Du Japon" by Air does not belong to me nor is it being used for profit. The title of this story was inspired by "Ava Adore" by Smashing Pumpkins as the remake by Test Your Reflex.
Summary: Ritsuka just wanted Soubi to prove that he loved him. Soubi could not defy him. After all, Ritsuka was his master. Ritsuka was his life.
A/N: Yeeeaaaaah. First Loveless fanfic/songfic. Strange, seeing as how I'm such an avid fan of the Loveless manga/anime. I'm a weirdo like that. Anyway, the thing to ask is: is this an M-rating? Let us hope so. -keff keff- I effing know I'm a pervert.
NOTE: THERE IS A SEXUAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN A YOUNGER BOY AND AN OLDER MAN IN THIS STORY. BEWARE. IF YOU HATE SHOTA AND STILL READ THIS AND FLAME, THEN YOU ARE AN IDIOTAlso, names are written in the original order - surname before given (as in Mackenzie Eris instead of Eris Mackenzie). There are also several honorifics used in the story, but they shouldn't really detract if you don't know them.
J'en perds la raison
(I lost my mind)
Dans la mer du Japon
(In the sea of Japan)
- "Mer Du Japon" par Air
That was the one name that simultaneously held and broke Aoyagi Ritsuka. The twelve year old boy could barely wrap his mind around the words that the older man said to him, still continued to say to him despite the fact that Ritsuka had told him numerous times to stop.
"I love you, Ritsuka."
That could not be true, could it? It was not possible to love someone like Ritsuka…someone tainted. That was what his mother thought, anyway. Along with the bruises and cuts in Ritsuka's skin was a pain that ran far deeper than flesh wounds, something sharp and sudden that made him cringe when fellow students would brush past him in the corridors. The fact that those hands did not wish to hurt him did not matter to Ritsuka. It was the unexpectedness of it and the prompt, unconscious reaction that had been beaten into him over time that made him stay away from the others laughing in their groups. His rational mind knew that his responses were absurd, but that did not change them. Seimei, his deceased older brother, had never been like that. The real Ritsuka, before he had forgotten himself, had not been like that either. He had always been laughing. That hurt to do now.
As he walked down the main staircase of the school to go home, Ritsuka sighed and turned his head to glance over his shoulder before hunching over in defeat. Hawatari Yuiko, a fellow student at his middle school, somehow never managed to leave him alone. It grated maddeningly on his nerves.
"Yuiko…what is it?" Ritsuka mumbled as the girl skipped up next to him. Today, Yuiko was wearing jeans and a teeny-tiny yellow shirt. The cute, commercialised smiley-face glared up at Ritsuka, seemingly mocking him with both its normalcy and garish happiness. It still amazed him that a twelve year old could possess such a rack. It was a wonder she had not gotten kidnapped already.
Yuiko fumbled with her worn knapsack strap and said brightly, "What are you doing today, Ritsuka-kun? Yuiko wants you to come over. No one is home today. Please, Ritsuka-kun, please!"
"I already said that I couldn't," Ritsuka said tonelessly for the literal tenth time that day. "I…have things to do. And didn't I tell you to stop referring to yourself in third-person?"
Yuiko instantly looked downcast. "Yuiko…I'm sorry, Ritsuka-kun. Are you sure you can't come over? Please? Please?"
"No!" Ritsuka nearly yelled. Some of the kids who were also leaving looked over at him before whispering behind their hands. Ritsuka did not care to think what they were gossiping about. Let them say what they wanted, he did not care.
At the sudden, echoing exclamation, Ritsuka looked up the stairwell to see their year six teacher, Shinonome-sensei, hurrying after them. As usual, she looked a bit flustered and overwhelmed, her cheeks pink and eyes concerned. A few papers fluttered behind her, unnoticed, as she ran to catch up.
"Aoyagi-kun, Hawatari-san, you forgot your homework in the classroom!"
As the twenty-three year old woman stopped when she reached the two students and caught her breath, Ritsuka once again noticed her ears poking out from her sandy hair. Cat-like ears were the signs of virginity within their community, along with their tails, and for one so meek as their sensei to still have them…well, it was something that other teachers often spoke about behind her back. But then, Ritsuka thought, so goes the cruel world.
"Ah, Sensei, thank you!" Yuiko smiled and grasped the papers that Shinonome-sensei handed her.
"And you, Aoyagi-kun." The teacher held out his papers.
"Oh…thank you, Sensei," Ritsuka said as he quickly thought of an excuse to leave swiftly. "Well, Hawatari-san and I are going to her house to study, so we will see you tomorrow. Goodbye, Sensei!"
He once again smiled widely. How fake, he thought viciously, hating himself as he did so. How fake. Hurriedly, Ritsuka grabbed hold of Yuiko and started jogging down the stairs as quickly as his legs could carry him, which (despite his short stature) was pretty darned fast.
After they finally slowed and began normally walking again, Yuiko asked in an innocent voice, "Are you really coming home with Yuiko?"
Ritsuka looked behind them and let go of the girl's wrist when he had made sure that the teacher was out of sight and earshot.
"No," Ritsuka responded shortly.
Ritsuka closed his eyes and counted to ten. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered with such a dim-witted girl, but then he reminded himself that he did not really make that choice. Yuiko seemed to materialise wherever Ritsuka happened to be.
Ritsuka sighed as they neared the school gates. "I already said I wouldn't. How many times do I have to -"
"Ritsuka. I've been waiting."
Soubi, Ritsuka instantly thought of the deeply sensuous purring voice. His eyes went wide before he swung around the face the older man.
"Soubi!" Ritsuka demanded. "What are you doing here?"
The tall, slender blond smiled serenely before leaning down and mussing Ritsuka's hair. The black faux fur lining Soubi's long, plum-coloured coat brushed the young boy's cheek. Giving a start, Ritsuka roughly pushed Soubi's hand off and glared at him.
"Did I forget to say that I had a surprise for you today?" Soubi asked, amused at Ritsuka's foul face. "Oh, my bad."
"Yuiko's happy to see you, Soubi-san!" Yuiko practically bounced up and down in place as she smiled widely at Soubi. Stupid girl, Ritsuka surprised himself by thinking when he saw Soubi return Yuiko's grin. When he realised he sounded jealous even in his own mind, Ritsuka's glare increased tenfold.
"Well, that's good," Soubi laughed, his expression growing more amused at the sight of his sacrifice's rapidly glowering face. "Ritsuka and I have to go, so I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Oh…Yuiko can't come?" she pouted as her lower lip just barely stuck out in a childish display.
"Not this time."
"Oh, well, maybe next time, right?" Yuiko perked up brightly at this new option.
"Right." Soubi put his arm around Ritsuka and pulled him close. "Now, goodbye, Yuiko-chan."
As they walked away, Yuiko still waving by the school gates, Ritsuka looked up at Soubi then back at the ground.
"Why do you tease her like that?" Ritsuka asked after a minute of silence.
"What do you mean?"
"You never come around enough to see her anyway, so why do you always tell her that?"
Soubi was quiet for a moment as they continued on down that street. "Are you saying that you don't think I'm around enough?"
"That's not what I meant!"
"Then, that you are lonely because I'm not here often enough?"
"Soubi, that's not -"
Ritsuka cut off when Soubi suddenly steered them into a small alcove.
"What are you doing?" Ritsuka demanded, a shiver running down his spine at the unfamiliar, almost crazed look in his sentoki's eyes.
For several seconds, Soubi merely stared at him, then he roughly pulled Ritsuka back out onto the street. His stride was swift, and Ritsuka had to jog to keep up.
"Where are we going?" Ritsuka asked, hating the wobbly tone of his voice even as he spoke.
Soubi did not look back down at the boy as he replied, "To my apartment. You haven't eaten yet, ne?"
Ritsuka opened his mouth to argue, but found to his surprise that Soubi was right. Earlier that day, he had not been feeling hungry for the usual school lunches so he had ultimately decided to skip. He had spent a majority of his lunchtime avoiding the hall monitors and watching the swaying trees outside of the fourth floor corridor's windows. He had remembered feeling lonely and had thought he had seen Soubi, but that happened so often these days.
However, he thought as his eyes narrowed suspiciously, his mind might not have been playing tricks on him this afternoon.
They passed street after unfamiliar street until they finally reached Soubi's apartment complex. Ritsuka, naturally, had been to the man's home before but was curious as to the route they had just taken; usually it took much longer for Ritsuka to be able to navigate to the apartment. Again, wariness blossomed in Ritsuka's thoughts. Why would he know such an obviously well-memorised and direct course to Ritsuka's school if not to spy on the twelve year old?
He glanced up at Soubi as the climbed the rickety wooden stairs and stopped as the blond slid the key in and opened the door to a stuffy dimness. The curtains were closed to the right of Soubi's bed on the other end of the floor. Paints, brushes, cleaning cloths, palettes, and numerous other art supplies were scattered about the wooden floor, which Soubi kicked out of the way as he led Ritsuka in and shut the door behind them.
Switching on the light, Soubi left Ritsuka to his own devices after he had slipped off his shoes by the entrance. The sounds of banging pots and pans clattered throughout the apartment as the older man began opening the cabinets in the cooking area.
"What are you making?" Ritsuka asked as he clumsily kicked off his shoes and stood awkwardly by the doorway before joining Soubi in the small kitchen.
"Sukiyaki," the sentoki answered. "It should not take long. Just make yourself comfortable, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka sighed but turned back around and trudged into the main room, flopped onto the brown, slightly sagging couch. As he looked around, it was obvious that Soubi was on a university student's budget. The only things that looked new were the bed sheets and the canvases against the wall. Quite a few of the canvases were painted, however; they stood propped up against the bare white walls. Though each was different and unique, the scenery was always the same - butterflies and flowers. Briefly, Ritsuka wondered why Soubi always painted these two creatures more than anything else. His gaze was caught some moments later by a painting half-hidden behind another, just a small slit sticking out. Though he could not really make it out, there was a swirl of black and beige that almost looked like an arm.
When Soubi finally finished and brought the dishes over to the low-sitting table, Ritsuka slunk off of the couch onto his knees and asked, "What is that?"
Soubi handed Ritsuka his bowl and turned his head behind him to look at said painting. "Oh…that," Soubi said. "Well, it is unfinished."
"But what is it?" Ritsuka asked as he took the first bit of his food. The thin meat was savoury, slightly greasy, and spread in a pool of flavour across his tongue. Absent-mindedly, he remembered the first time Soubi had cooked for him and what he had said. 'You must train your senses, Ritsuka'. Yes, Soubi certainly had succeeded in that.
Soubi sighed and finally stood, crossing the room to the painting. He pulled the canvas out, and Ritsuka nearly dropped his chopsticks.
"Me?" Ritsuka cried, shock evident in his voice. Sure enough, it was a portrait of Ritsuka. His head was tilted, eyes soft and sad, gazing at nothing and lost in thought. His ebony hair was blowing in some transparent wind. Though it was himself, even Ritsuka had to begrudgingly notice the utter effort that had gone into the piece; everything down to the barely detectably shadows on his face and the single strands of hair were excruciatingly detailed. The colours were lonely, nuances of blue and grey and something forgotten in between. However, there was a splash of vivid, blinding red right where his heart would be; it hurt Ritsuka's eyes to look at it too long.
"But…but why, Soubi?" the younger boy asked weakly. "Don't you have other things that you should use your precious paint on?"
"It is you, Ritsuka," Soubi said. "I wanted something to remind me of you everyday."
"Then…why did you cover it up?"
"Because," Soubi shook his head slightly. "Because it made me think of you too much, and that hurt."
Ritsuka opened his mouth several times before he was forced to acknowledge that he had nothing to say. Instead, he glared furiously at the sukiyaki as if it were the culprit responsible for this sudden rise of flurried emotions tearing inside him.
"Ritsuka," Soubi said, amusement tinkling, "I think your food is already dead. You don't need to stab it like that."
"Sorry," he grumbled. After that, neither spoke for the rest of the meal.
When they were finished, Soubi cleaned up. He was washing the dishes when he called, "Ritsuka! Why don't you take a bath?"
"What?! Why?" Ritsuka's cheeks flushed as he thought about taking a bath, being naked, in Soubi's apartment.
"You spilled sauce all over your shirt, so you should just take a bath while I wash it out since I know you are going to want to sleep when you get home. Don't think I don't know about your late night escapades playing that game again."
Ritsuka growled a little bit (why was it that Soubi always knew every move that he made?) but consented anyway.
"Fine," he mumbled. He ignored the small, knowing smile that he knew would be on Soubi's face as he made his way past the man.
He knew Soubi was right; he had barely been able to concentrate in school today and had actually fallen asleep during one of Shinonome-sensei's lectures. He would probably go home in a few hours (hopefully before his curfew rolled around, or his mother would be on the rampage again), sleep for a while, then be up until he collapsed at his computer keyboard.
The white bathtub stood on its own behind a single white curtain at the far end of the apartment. Ritsuka crossed over and yanked the drape behind him; unbeknownst to him, his silhouette could still be clearly seen. A fluffy blue bath towel was already waiting for him, folded over the side of the tub, and Ritsuka rolled his eyes; Soubi must have already planned this all out.
Ritsuka leaned over to start running the water before he tugged his baggy green sweatshirt over his head. Next came the red striped tee-shirt underneath that, then his socks, and finally his black cut-offs until he was left wearing nothing but his underwear. He poked his head out between the curtain to check that Soubi was not spying on him before he slid out of that skimpy piece of clothing, too.
The sacrifice slid his toe in cautiously, then stepped into the tub and submerged himself in one go. He could barely keep the satisfied moan from escaping his throat as all of his skin up to his chin disappeared beneath the thick layer of fragrant bubbles. Oh, how he loved baths.
It was some time later that Ritsuka heard the curtain slide back and crumple on the metal rail, but he was too sleepy to open his eyes and care.
"Ritsuka, don't fall asleep in there. You might drown," came Soubi's voice. There was a soft rustle of cloth against wood; the young boy guessed that Soubi was picking up his soiled shirt to clean it.
Though Ritsuka knew it was the sentoki, he merely shifted and mumbled to let him know that he was still awake.
"Well, I will take care of this, then," Soubi murmured as softly as he could to let Ritsuka stay in that relaxed state. It was not often that the boy felt comfortable enough in Soubi's presence to beuntroubled. He would not mind if it were that way more often.
The older man's eyes flickered briefly over Ritsuka's bubble-covered body, and then he left, swishing the curtain closed behind him.
It ended up taking more time than either Soubi or Ritsuka had thought for his shirt to dry out, so Ritsuka was forced to sit around until it did. Although Soubi had offered for Ritsuka to wear one of his own shirts, the young boy could not abide by the thought of something that had touched Soubi's skin touching his own. It just unnerved him. Hence, he was now nervously perched on the edge of the sentoki's bed, hands clasped tightly in front of him.
Soubi had finished gathering his scattered art supplies and had arranged them beside his paintings. He now was striding over to the small clothing cabinet at the foot of his bed. He was in the midst of switching shirts when Ritsuka saw something unsettling that caught his eye.
"Soubi, come here," Ritsuka commanded, concern and something else making his voice tremble.
Soubi turned around, confused, but followed Ritsuka's order.
"Yes?" he inquired.
Ritsuka wanted to ask Soubi about what he had just seen but could not dredge up the courage to do so. Instead, he commented to the sentoki that he looked tired and should lay down.
"What? Now? But I don't have a -"
The barely hidden emotion in Ritsuka's voice killed any argument that would have stirred within Soubi, and he nodded as he sat on the side of the bed next to the younger boy.
"Only if you lay down with me," Soubi teased, enjoying the rapid blush the filtered over Ritsuka's cheeks. He expected the boy to refuse and was shocked when the boy actually did so.
"Now will you lay down?" Ritsuka asked stubbornly, unable to look Soubi in the eye.
Soubi, unused to his sacrifice's odd behaviour, finally nodded and stretched out on the small bed. One thought did filter through Soubi's head as he arranged himself, and that was that Ritsuka was right - he was tired, more than he had thought. It was probably because of all the extra assignments he had been to cram to get done for his professors in the past week.
It was about ten minutes later that Ritsuka finally asked the question that he had wanted to in the first place.
"Soubi…" Ritsuka's voice sounded soft, adorably cute, and careful. "Where did you get these scars?"
Soubi sighed into the pillow, his breath making a gentle breeze stir the soft strands of his hair. "I acquired them when I was training to be a sentoki at Shichisei Gakuen. My sensei…was not a gentle man."
"What was his name?"
"Ritsuka…can we please not talk about this?"
"What did he do to you?" Ritsuka was insistent. It showed in the way the muscles of his small body tensed with his words.
"It is in the past now, Ritsuka. Don't…"
"What did he do to you, Soubi?" His words were like the tips of steel wings gliding over Soubi's back, exquisite and painful. "I am ordering you to answer me. With the truth."
An order, Soubi thought with a glimmer of ironic amusement. It was not often that the twelve year old reverted to giving him an order, and such a thorough one at that, but this was an instance where Ritsuka would be satisfied. Soubi sighed again and sat up, ruffling the bed sheets as he did so. He gathered startled Ritsuka in his arms and relished the feel of the smooth skin of the boy's neck under his lips before he spoke.
"These scars are the result of learning how to cope with unendurable injury. Pain, you see, is something that a sentoki must be able to endure. There cannot be a breaking point; my sensei taught me that. A sentoki must protect his sacrifice under all circumstances. If he fails…" Soubi paused for a moment to shake his head, "then, he is not worthy enough to be called a sentoki."
"Well, that's…stupid," Ritsuka replied with his usual stubbornness after a moment of silence.
Soubi's lips twisted into a smile as he kissed a trail along Ritsuka's neck to the back of his ear, rewarding Ritsuka's shiver with the merest flicker of wet tongue against his skin. Sometimes it was too adorable how naïve Ritsuka could be. The fact that it did not happen very frequently made Soubi treasure the moments even more.
"S-Soubi, what…what are you doing?" Ritsuka asked in a melting and hesitantly honeyed voice. Soubi allowed himself a small smile of victory as he felt the petit body in his arms tremble slightly. This was the only time that Ritsuka was timid, for this was one of the few things he did not, could not, know.
"You're hurting. I'm making you feel better," Soubi said simply. His tongue glided hotly across the cool, bony knob of Ritsuka's shoulder. He was really very tiny, Soubi reflected absentmindedly, and tasted so delicious.
"Baka…don't be stupid," Ritsuka mumbled but did not protest, as Soubi had predicted. Ritsuka's dark black hair, yet to be dulled by years of hair products, fell in broken slits across his eyes, barely brushed his shoulders in shiny, velvet waves.
"It feels nice, though, does it not?" Soubi wanted a reaction as his hand lightly stroked Ritsuka's bare midriff and chest.
Soubi did not get a verbal answer; indeed, he did not expect one. Ritsuka's response was in the small waves of his body as he washed over Soubi, cleared his mind and soothed his torrid thoughts, his angry past.
He could feel his groin start to tighten when he abruptly tweaked one of Ritsuka's pert, pink nipples and heard his muffled gasp. Soubi closed his eyes and leaned in close to the nape of Ritsuka's neck, breathed deep of his naturally musty yet scrumptiously clean scent. Ritsuka's quick inhalation sent a sharp thrill through Soubi's body. It felt strange to Ritsuka, foreign…but good. So few things felt that way anymore.
"Don't," Ritsuka finally protested. "Your roommate…"
"Who? Kio?" Soubi placed a small kiss against Ritsuka's temple. "He's not going to be back for a long time. He's visiting family in Yokohama for a few days. You can stay as long as you want."
"I…I…Soubi…" Soubi could see Ritsuka's large, dark eyes locked on Soubi's lips, his cheeks painted a delicate rose against his pale skin and dark hair like a porcelain doll. He was lovelier than anyone Soubi had ever seen. Even Seimei, he thought with a glimmer of guilt.
"She is so lost in her own delusions right now, Ritsuka," Soubi pushed both regretfully and forcefully. "I doubt she even knows you're gone."
Ritsuka closed his eyes on the unaccustomed tears at such blunt words. But it was true, was it not? His mother barely knew she had a son.
"That's right," Ritsuka replied quietly, his voice bitter as overly thick usucha maccha. "The real 'Ritsuka' is the one she is waiting for. It would be better if I disappeared and let him come back. It would be best for everybody."
"No!" Ritsuka was not prepared for the vehemence of Soubi's reply, and he was startled when he felt Soubi's grip tighten across his middle. Soubi was shaking.
"No," Soubi said again after he had calmed down somewhat; however, his hold on Ritsuka did not loosen. "The Ritsuka you are now…is precious to me. I cannot lose you. Please."
Ritsuka felt a burst of tingling surprise in the pit of his stomach soon followed by an urge to make that unknowingly desperate undertone Soubi had used disappear.
"Soubi…" Ritsuka murmured and turned his head to look his sentoki in the eyes. "You…" He felt a blush heating his cheeks and looked away. Why could he not just say what was in his heart?
"It's okay, Ritsuka," Soubi spoke gently as he saw his sacrifice struggling. "Just please don't say that again."
Ritsuka just barely nodded. He was beautiful. The warm, moist breath washing over his skin soon became too much for Soubi, and he could not help leaning down and capturing Ritsuka's lovely, lush lips with his own. Instantly, the faint but explosive taste of Ritsuka flooded into his mouth, the spicy sauce the boy had been eating still a vague remainder on his tongue. Soubi heard Ritsuka make an odd whimpering sound and was not surprised to feel Ritsuka being to shift toward him, twisting his torso back.
Soubi broke off to catch his breath and had to stifle an agonised moan at the look of utter desire on a face so young. He did not think that Ritsuka knew what he was doing to him, did not think Ritsuka even knew that he was doing anything to warrant Soubi's reaction.
"Ah, Ritsuka," Soubi begged, "please don't make that face. I won't be able to control myself. Stop."
Soubi looked over at his sacrifice in surprise; he would have thought that Ritsuka would not want anything else. However, the determined look on Ritsuka's face proved the exact opposite.
"Ritsuka, what are you…"
"Soubi." Ritsuka slid around and sat directly on Soubi's lap, his stick-thin legs entwining themselves around Soubi's hips. He leaned far in and whispered, "I want you to prove to me that you love me."
"What?" Soubi pulled back in shock to stare Ritsuka full in the face.
Now, Ritsuka looked a bit embarrassed. However, with his eyes on a point over Soubi's shoulder, he said, "I want you to show me how much you love me." He paused, seeming to be struggling with himself. "Please."
The word came out strangled, but Soubi understood all the same. 'Show him how much I love him?' Soubi thought in what was first confusion then became an unsure, near excited anticipation.
"Are you asking for what I think you are?" Soubi asked softly. His voice held like soft steel but was shaking on the inside.
Ritsuka barely nodded. His hair had fallen into his face and hid his eyes from Soubi's gaze. He was too shy, Soubi knew with a soft, understanding smile, to look him in the eye. He was only twelve years old, after all.
"Ritsuka…" Soubi began, his intuition and the need to obey warring in his head. "Perhaps we shouldn't…I mean, this is a little sudden. And you're so young."
"Am I really?" Ritsuka snapped back with a sudden edge to his voice. "How do you know what age I am on the inside?"
He suddenly looked up. His nearly black eyes were filled with a foreign emotion that made Soubi's skin ripple with gooseflesh. It was that frighteningly painful abyss that sucked Soubi in.
"Just because I'm young does not mean that I don't have the same amount of pain as anyone else older than me. I'm only a kid on the outside. Please, Soubi…I want you to love me. Or did you lie to me again?"
The sheer loneliness that Soubi could always see, was always, always conscious of, was shining through Ritsuka's eyes in steady, pulsing waves was near enough to make him go crazy. He was supposed to protect his sacrifice, and this was not the way to go about it. But if it was what Ritsuka truly wanted…
Ritsuka was his master. Ritsuka was his life. Soubi could not defy him.
In a split second, Ritsuka was splayed out on the bed, Soubi on top of him. Ritsuka let out a soft squeak when Soubi's hot, skilful mouth wrapped around his left nipple. Soubi suckled as gently as a babe so as not to hurt his fragile, exquisite sacrifice. After a while, Ritsuka began to pant when unfamiliar nerve endings came to life and seared him with the pleasure. It terrified him, but his forlorn heart welcomed it with a rush of sore joy, like the taste of water on a starved man's tongue.
Soubi switched to the next nipple as he reached his hand to tug and play at the puckered nub he had just ravished. Unconsciously, Ritsuka's body arched into the touch, a whimper of torn need escaping his lungs. Soubi's body responded to the sound as a throbbing ache began to build in his lower body. By all that was alive, was he lovely.
"Ritsuka," Soubi panted one last time, breaking off and reaching for reality, "are you sure? Don't do this if you're not. Please. You'll just regret it."
Ritsuka was silent; Soubi began to think with a strange semblance of disappointment and relief that perhaps he was changing his mind. Then, Ritsuka's voice trickled back into the room, and Soubi was alive again.
His answer was simple. "I'll regret it more if I don't."
In an unexpected reversal, or perhaps a sudden revealing, Ritsuka appeared to push his personality out of himself, something he rarely did with anyone, especially Soubi. However, both of them were beginning to truly understand the role of a sacrificial master. Ritsuka was starting to realise that Soubi was his. A human possession, but willingly so.
With a muffled groan, Soubi attacked Ritsuka's neck, almost as if to suck his skin into his mouth and consume it. Indeed, if Soubi could have eaten the boy, he would have gobbled him up right there. However, the moans and pants coming from such an innocent being were more than enough to make up for it.
Soubi risked a glance upwards and saw that Ritsuka's mouth was halfway open, the small pink slip of a tongue feverishly licking his chapped lips, cheeks flushed apple red. When Soubi moved his affections back onto Ritsuka's chest, the delicious sounds grew to fill the whole room. Wave after wave of giddy heat rode over Soubi's body, made his head spin. Oh, he had never felt like this, ever.
Soubi could not believe how much he suddenly wanted the younger boy; it was as if all the desire he had ever felt was coming back all at once tenfold. However, he forced himself to stem his craving, leaving Ritsuka's trousers on for now, and turned his attention to making his sacrifice feel incredible.
"S-Soubi!" Ritsuka yelped when he felt Soubi's tongue lapping at his bellybutton, thrusting in and out, pseudo-fucking, a preview of what was to come. "Ah…don't! Don't!"
Soubi breathlessly looked up. His features were nearly pained when he asked, "Don't? You want me to stop now, Ritsuka?"
"I-I…" Ritsuka bit his lip; it was not that he wanted the older man to stop. "It…it hurts when you do that. My body feels funny."
Soubi let out a great, relieved lungful of air and chuckled. "Is that all, Ritsuka? I was afraid you were really going to ask me to stop. You are supposed to feel like that. I know it can be scary, but I promise it will be worth it. I love you, Ritsuka. I would never do anything that would purposefully hurt you."
"O…okay, Soubi." Ritsuka visibly gulped. "I-I trust you."
"I love you, Ritsuka," Soubi repeated. He had a strange look in his pale eyes; half burning, half desire.
Soubi's fingers trailed a tingling path down Ritsuka's front; the younger boy knotted the blond hair in his fist unconsciously as his touches went lower and lower. He paused right above the zipper of Ritsuka's pants, splaying his fingertips just underneath the elastic waistband of the boy's underwear. Ritsuka knew the other was teasing him, and he pushed his hips up in an agitated circle.
"Ssh, calm down, my beautiful sacrifice," Soubi whispered.
Ritsuka barely noticed that his sentoki was sliding lower until he felt Soubi's tongue dip under the same place where his fingers had been. His pants were getting tight; Ritsuka stared down in confusion, but Soubi's head was in the way.
"It won't be long now."
Soubi's tongue was swirling, creating a transparent map of spit and want upon Ritsuka's skin, painting him like a human canvas. Ritsuka was getting far too warm; why was the room suddenly so hot? Shimmering blond hair fell against the young boy's stomach in a cool waterfall, tickling his nipples and making him squirm in contrast with the dexterous wetness of the older man's mouth. Then, abruptly, his pants were being unzipped and pulled down slowly, inch by inch, until Ritsuka was left in nothing but his underwear.
"Soubi," Ritsuka protested, his eyes lidded, heavy, languid. "Why am I the only one without clothes?"
He started in surprise as his own question (Where had that come from? he thought with a deep blush) just as Soubi began laughing.
"All right, Ritsuka, do you want me to take off my clothes too?" Soubi asked with a smile as he sat back and looked at the younger boy. Ritsuka would not glance his way and was glaring at some point over Soubi's shoulder. "Would that make you feel better?"
Ever so hesitantly, Ritsuka finally nodded. "I guess," he mumbled, never one to express exactly what he wanted.
His black eyes widened as Soubi promptly obeyed him, stripping off and disposing of his trousers in mere seconds. He was hooking his thumbs underneath his own underwear when Ritsuka choked back a throatful of saliva and shook his head, effectively stopping Soubi in his tracks.
"Just…could you leave that on, please?"
At least until later, Ritsuka thought with a rush of guilty pleasure. He knew what he was doing was not something that anyone else in his class had ever done. He had expected it to make him feel dirty, but instead he was being filled with something far more gratifying and demanding.
Soubi settled back between Ritsuka's legs, a moan lodging itself firmly in his throat. Though still a child, Ritsuka was getting hard enough to match Soubi's own. Naturally, the clothed bulge snuggled in Soubi's hip was much smaller, at most only half of what Soubi himself was, but he was not by any means complaining. His ochinchin was cute, he thought with a mental chuckle. However, his gaiety was soon wiped away in a rush when he felt Ritsuka begin to move against him.
Shuddering with pleasure and staring down at his sacrifice in shock, Soubi deducted that Ritsuka was again not aware he was doing anything; it was all autopilot now. Ritsuka's back was arched, pressing his head against the pillow and his groin against Soubi's, legs splayed open. The sight was lewd beyond belief. He twisted his hand in the white pillowcase beside his head when Soubi returned his movements, gyrating against him in a way that far exceeded X-rated.
The sentoki's control was rapidly wearing thin, and he leaned down in desperation to silence Ritsuka by swallowing his moan. At the same time, his hand slipped under Ritsuka's waistband and did something wondrous, twisting and pulling and jerking, slicking his palm with clear, viscous pre-cum. Soubi was faintly surprised; he had not known whether Ritsuka had matured enough to even produce ejaculate, but apparently he was. There would be no dry orgasm for this boy.
"Soubi!" Ritsuka broke off and groaned loudly.
Soubi grunted, nudging his tongue on the underside of the boy's chin. His sweat left a salty dream on his lips. Just as Ritsuka's muscles were getting shaky, his body on the brink of something previously unknown, Soubi stopped.
Outraged, Ritsuka looked down to demand what Soubi thought he was doing when he suddenly felt the most amazing heat enveloping him. Unable to help himself, Ritsuka thrust instinctively into that glorious wet warmth, beginning to lose himself. It felt like his mind was dissolving into blissful static. Soubi himself was in Nirvana; the taste of Ritsuka's hardened flesh in his mouth was like none other, faintly caustic but herbal, organic and musky. The glossy black pubic hair tickled his nose.
He knew by the desperate pants and the small tremors running through the young boy that he would not last much longer at this rate. But…he wanted to make Ritsuka his and his alone. Regretfully, he swirled his tongue once more around the head and let it fall away from his mouth.
Instantly, Ritsuka began protesting, but Soubi whispered "Ritsuka, wait just a moment," as he backed away. The sounds of rummaging were heard in the nightstand beside the bed. Ritsuka shut his eyes and tried to take a deep breath past the raging blood rushing through his veins. Oh, what was going on? Why was he feeling like this?
Soubi returned seconds later with a small, clear plastic bottle clutched in his right hand. There was a thick liquid sloshing in it; it was full, and Ritsuka had a feeling it had been waiting there just for him. The younger boy did not understand what it was until the first drops of cool oil were dripped onto his flesh. These were warmed by Soubi's touch and left a pleasant tingle in its wake, causing Ritsuka to shiver slightly. It smelled strongly, but not overpoweringly, of eucalyptus, peppermint and cocoa butter.
"This might sting a little. Tell me if you want me to stop, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka was confused for only a few moments until he bit back a gasp when he felt one of Soubi's knuckles brush against his backside. What was going on?
"Soubi, what are you doing? Why are you touching there?" Ritsuka asked, inquisitiveness and embarrassment warring in his voice. Soubi did not answer him immediately, but he did hesitate.
"…I am making you mine, Ritsuka. When I touch you, every stroke of my hand, every kiss marks you as my sacrifice. Please forgive me."
Soubi's finger slipped past the muscled barrier, buried itself far in Ritsuka, who gasped and, against his will, winced a little.
"F-forgive you for what?" the boy asked shakily, desperately trying to draw breath past this sudden strange feeling deep inside. It was not so much painful as it was confusing and uncomfortable.
"It is not my place to possess. I am yours, Ritsuka."
"Ahh!" Ritsuka did not get the chance to refute that as abruptly the discomfort vanished, and he gasped in unadulterated pleasure. A sudden spike of pure ecstasy shot through his small body; unbeknownst to him, Soubi was smiling victoriously. His back arched, pressing the titillating curve of his bottom against Soubi's fingers and forcing them deeper.
"Soubi, what was that?" Ritsuka panted, barely managing to keep ahold of himself as, now that Soubi had found the lovely prostate gland, that same place was stroked yet again.
"Ssh…just feel it. You have to get used to it, Ritsuka."
Ritsuka wanted to ask why, but it did not matter. By Buddha, nothing mattered as long as Soubi kept doing touching him like that. Ritsuka blushed deeply for merely a couple of seconds as he thought about what his mother, what Yuiko and Yayoi-san and Shinonome-sensei would think if they saw him like this. Would they think he was a bad boy? Ritsuka decided he did not care. He wanted to be loved, for Soubi to love him just this once.
Then, Soubi was curling both of his legs against his chest, and his hand left for a fraction of a moment. Ritsuka heard a faint slicking sound, and then Soubi was biting his lip, and something much larger than fingers began sliding into him. There was a sting of sharp pain that made Ritsuka hiss through his teeth; he could not suppress a loud "OW!" at the invasion.
"Ohhh, Ritsuka, you feel so lovely…"
Had Ritsuka currently not been battling off the smarting, he would have been more surprised at the dying restraint in his sentoki's voice. Soubi was just barely able to hold himself still on his elbows above his sacrifice, muscles shaking as he forced himself to stay motionless. This was for Ritsuka, to allow him time to get used to it.
If Soubi had maintained any lingering qualms against doing this while his sacrifice was still so young, they were promptly blasted away when Ritsuka shifted his hips and sank just that bit further onto his cock. Soubi tried to control his wild moan, but his appreciation was heard anyway.
"Soubi?" Ritsuka's voice was as unsteady as Soubi's self-restraint was becoming. "Does this feel good for you?"
Soubi's long, silky hair brushed against Ritsuka's chest as the sentoki nodded shakily. He could barely breathe, it felt so good. He was being squeezed on all sides by a scorching utopia made of rushing blood, puckered skin, and achingly tight muscles. How could this not feel heavenly?
Ritsuka took Soubi's answer to heart; his face was calm as he realised that he was making the older man feel this way. The pain had dulled down now to a sore throb, but maybe that was Soubi's heartbeat deep in his guts. Now that he was getting used to it…it did not feel so bad. In fact, if Ritsuka was truthful with himself, having Soubi inside of him like this felt kind of good. Really good, he realised, like he was finally being completed in more ways than one, stretched wide and pliant around Soubi.
He experimentally moved up and down rhythmically, biting his lip against the unexpected burst of pleasure he got out of it. The friction from the tightness of his muscles around Soubi's ochinchin made the movement nearly hurt even with the lubricant, but it was far outweighed by the feeling of burning desire that was swiftly coming alight in the pit of Ritsuka's stomach. He gasped when the tip of Soubi's penis hit a spot deep inside him, and instinctively he pushed himself further down.
Soubi's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he swiftly opened his eyes. Ritsuka's head was thrown back against the pillow as he continued to impale himself on Soubi, the most delicious and tantalizing whimpers coming from his throat.
"Soubi…ah…Soubi! Please!" Ritsuka did not know what he was asking for, but, oh, did he want it.
"Please what?" Soubi's voice was a dark, velvety whisper in the shell of Ritsuka's ear. Flickeringly, his tongue shot out and lined his earlobe. "What do you want me to do, Ritsuka? Command me."
"Ah! I don't know!" Ritsuka nearly yelled, getting frustrated. His hips rocked back and forth frantically; Soubi was still barely moving. "Do something! I order you to do what you want!"
And then, oh, Soubi was thrusting into him far enough to make Ritsuka nearly scream, satisfying him in ways that he had never even contemplated before. Ritsuka was all but choking on his own saliva as his mind began cutting out, feeling only that hardness constantly plunging into him and lighting his nerves like torches. Vaguely he heard himself repeating Soubi's name over and over, voice breaking, and Soubi answered him every time. He always answered him, Ritsuka suddenly realised, always did what he could for him. Finally, the words he had always refused to say and his heart connected into one.
"...Suki dayo, Soubi," Ritsuka whispered ardently as he leaned up and wrapped his thin arms around the blond's shoulders.
Soubi could barely believe his ears; Ritsuka had never said those words before. But now when Soubi stared down at him, Ritsuka's gaze was unrelenting and determined. His eyelashes were fluttering, eyes nearly rolling back, as swirls of painted pleasure churned through the waters of Soubi's mind.
"Oh, Ritsuka…" Soubi's face screwed up into a near snarl as he kept up the rhythm, fucking his sacrifice faster than before; by now Ritsuka was fully relaxed around him.
Deftly, Soubi slipped out of Ritsuka and turned the boy around until he faced his back then pushed in again. A burst of heat spread through Ritsuka's limbs when Soubi hit unfathomable places from this new position. The blond gripped the boy's hips almost hard enough to bruise (but that he knew would not) and slid one hand down past the small thicket of ebony pubic hair. His fingers curled around the base of Ritsuka's ochinchin and gently stroked upwards before coming back down, timing it with his thrusts. He repeated the process a second time, only harsher.
Ritsuka's breath was sobbing in and out, nearly weeping at the stimuli. His pre-adolescent body coiled around Soubi's like he had been a child whore for his whole life, ass to groin, legs wide open and bent at the knees over Soubi's lap to aid in the actions. His skin was slick with sweat, a translucent and oh-so-beneficial sheen. Soubi licked a long line across Ritsuka's shoulder up to the back of his neck and bit soft enough to avoid breaking the surface; the salty taste intensified his flavour.
"I-ahh-Soubi-I'm going to…"
Soubi heard Ritsuka's pleading and promptly sped up; he wanted his sacrifice to go out of his mind when he allowed him to come. Yes, when Soubi allowed Ritsuka to come. It was a strange reversal, but had his master not ordered him to do what he wanted? And this was what he wanted. Ohhhh, yes.
"Tell me you own me, Ritsuka," Soubi groaned, arching against the boy. The moisture was running into his eyes, blinding him, before he felt Ritsuka's tongue gliding along and licking it off.
"I own you," Ritsuka purred in a voice so unlike anything Soubi had ever heard that he nearly came right then and there.
The look on his face was so devilishly wicked that the older man shivered. Then, the expression was replaced with a more familiar one, a face twisted with pleasure.
"Soubi! Harder, please! Please!" Ritsuka cried moments later.
Soubi obeyed, and then suddenly he knew that his sacrifice was there. Ritsuka's screams were erratic and broken as his pearly white cum sprinkled the sheets in a globulous shower, creating a lovely abstract painting of his own - and he always said that he was not artistic. The muscles surrounding the sentoki were spasming and clenching unbearably tight. Soubi regretfully could not stop his end and matched his sacrifice's exclamations octave-for-octave as he came just seconds later.
He just barely avoided collapsing on top of him, instead rolling onto his other side to stare the younger boy in the face. Ritsuka's small body was heaving with his inhalations, eyes closed. Over time, his breath evened out, and he fell asleep in a post-coital haze.
On the same note, Soubi's whole body felt languid with the after effects of such a consuming act. It took all of his remaining strength to reach to the bottom of the bed and pull the sheet over them before he arranged himself next to his sacrifice and folded the petit boy in his arms.
For a long time, all he did was gaze at his resting sacrifice, almost as if unable to believe what had just happened. He ran his fingers gently through Ritsuka's hair so as not to wake him and idly reflected with some measure of ironic acceptance that he did not regret it.
The blond man was almost asleep when he felt an unexpected cutting pain. Wincing at the familiar sting, he dragged his fingers up to his neck. When he brought them back, they were slicked red. His name was bleeding profusely, had been for some time. Soubi looked at his fingers and back at Ritsuka. Kept looking at Ritsuka. Then he closed his eyes, making the easiest and yet the most difficult decision he had ever made.
He did not care.
For one small moment, sentoki and sacrifice did not matter. It was just them in this warm cloud, Soubi and Ritsuka. Just a man and the boy that he loved.
A/N: Ah, I know, mysterious ending, ne? Well, this is the explanation: Soubi was basically betraying his original sacrifice (Seimei), and for someone like him that is unthinkable. But for once, he made his own decision…and that was that he chose Ritsuka over Seimei. Thus telling everything he had ever learned to fuck off. Or, you could get really introspective and the blood could symbolise that of the innocent he's spilled (figuratively, we're talking about Ritsuka's virginity here) and that he's telling the world and society to fuck itself and leave the two of them alone. Either way, it's a fuck off statement.