Somebody

RinBon

Summary: In which Ryuji wants a relationship and Rin's running scared.


"So I'll be holding my breath, could this be the end?

Is it that moment when I find the one that I'll spend forever with."

"Gotta Be Somebody" by Nickelback


Rin Okumura was the Son of Satan, elder brother of Yukio Okumura, top of every teacher's shit list, lover of cooking shows, reader of mangas, cooker of meals and lover of Ryuji Surguro.

Forgive him but the latter makes his skin prickle and his stomach swirl and tie in knots that stomachs should not tie in.

Sure, he had been the one to provoke a tad—a lot—to the happenings of the Kitchen Incident with Ryuji and all those lusty Shakespearian mumbo jumbo was still mashed in his brain muddled his thoughts and made the more primal of his demonic instincts want to jump the bones of his fellow (sexy) classmate whenever he did anything that appealed vaguely arousing—like running his fingers through his hair, looking at him, smiling, reading, writing, thinking, breathing—and even that was getting a little more than annoying when he had to sit through another boorish lesson when he much rather be making out under the west stairwell with Ryuji.

Sure, he hadn't even expected the top of the class, straight laced A, rebel god of a man to even look his way—without trying to laser holes through his cranium—but even then the first time he touched him, kissed him, Rin hadn't expected much more. After they had sex, he hadn't expected Ryuji to stay. After break, he hadn't expected Ryuji to sit with him during class.

Rin was slowly learning not to underestimate the sanity of Ryuji Suguro.


He's sitting in his own little space, where he'd always have lunch, far away from everyone else where no one could bother him, pick a fight with him or any demons could really bother him. Unless they tracked him down like that measly possessed son of a bitch/rich kid/French Ambassador's son—otherwise dubbed "Jacque" for the sake of stereotyping—had. If that areshole ever came at him again, well, Rin didn't exactly know. He couldn't really kill him . . .

His chop sticks stilled.

. . . could he?

Well, he hadn't even liked him before he was possessed. Arsehole. He stole his seat and kept trying to provoke him and made platoon of comments on his poverty and some French profanities Rin hadn't fully understood since he didn't actually speak French, but he was sure they would be equal parts tool-ish and reek of douche bagedry.

If I did kill him it would have to be clever. Maybe I give him food poisoning with some undercooked sushi or I could nudge/throw him down some stairs . . . Squinting, Rin almost smiled in spite of himself. Maybe he'll fall in a well! I could dig one in one night, put some leaves over it and make sure he walks over it. Who knows I might even catch Mephisto too!

Rin laughed, out loud and carefree. Giggling until his sides hurt at the mental image of the obnoxiously pink and ridiculous principal falling in a well.

Maybe I could even fill it with something . . . Quickly the possible-murder choices were turning into a form of sweet and bloody revenge against his older demi-brother. Like in that one American vampire TV show. That blonde guy fell in a well full of some plant that burned him . . . what burns pink demons?

Drawing up blanks on any herb he probably should remember by now; he considers asking someone if they know.

Ryuji's face comes to mind.


Ryuji—the glorious god of a man—had been acting strange as of late.

When they made out—under Rin's terms or his—his hands were doing far less roaming than usual. Normally, for the first couple of times, Ryuji had been all over him like he was going out of style while they were still new to each other—hands gripping his hair, slipping under his shirt, diving down his pants, doing anything to make him moan—and Rin was exhilarated at the feeling when he was pulled to the floor or pushed against and/or on the nearest available surface.

Now—while hands still roamed and God it felt good—Ryuji seemed more . . . careful. As if he was savoring each touch and imprint the feeling of his hands into Rin's pale skin.

He was doing a real bang up job.


Kuro likes Ryuji a lot, and to show it the cat curls around his legs whenever he comes to visit and yowls to steal more attention from Ryuji's magician hands than Rin gets.

Quite a few times, the sithcat had unintentionally/intentionally tripped the man so when he fell, Rin met him before the floor.

After that, the whole universe seemed to be in agreement that he was the uke.

On more than one occasion, Ryuji blushed a bright and brilliant red and when Rin's strived to comment on the coloring of his face—trying to seem blasé and otherwise a demonic tease, all the while brushing his lips across his lover's and trying not to laugh at how cute it all was—and the blushing teen would retaliate by tickling the crap out of him until he gasped an apology.


"What's that, Rin? A hickey? Who's the slut who gave it to you?" Dumbass rich kid—Jacque—began Algebra with his usual spiel on 'how-the-hell-did-he-get-here' and Rin rolled his eyes and restrained himself in his lone desk.

He still hadn't found a proper place for the hole yet, but he had graphs and a shovel.

And he was waiting for nightfall.


"Hey," Ryuji is lying in bed with his phone in hand; the sheets are pulled up halfway around him and draping like a pair of low-rise jeans over his hips. Rin liked Ryuji in his bed, he liked his scent when it lingered and the warmth he provided. He's sprawled across the two pillows his coveted to himself and buries his nose into the scent of Ryuji like an odd sort of perfume merged from leather, textbooks, and sweat.

"Hmm?" he hummed, silently plotting ways to make Ryuji drop the cell phone.

"That new horror movie you like is out . . ."

Rin immediately raised his head and leant over to Ryuji and bumped shoulders with him to look at the screen.

Ryuji snickered at this, no one ever thought he was the childishly energetic-type with all his brooding and demon-dubbed-isolating-sentence-of-silence. Whenever he got worked up about something now, Ryuji would smile, softly and sexily like he was seeing something that was for his eyes only. It almost made him blush, almost.

"Aw, cool! I want to see that!" He gushed.

Ryuji looked at him a moment and then, in a rasped voice, asked, "Do you wanna go? We could still make the premiere if we hurry . . ." He let his suggestion trail off.

Not thinking much about it, Rin rolled out of bed only to get tangled in the sheet and going sprawling to the floor—much to Ryuji's annoyance.

"Watch it! You're going to bleed all over the floor!"

Rin lunged upward, yanking up a pair of red checked boxers. "Shut it!" Then as an after note, added, "And we are so not making out during the movie. Don't even touch me. I want to see every minute of this."

"Fine by me . . ." Blushing, the boy threw back the sheets and stood. "Those are mine idiot!"


Rin dutifully stabbed the shovel into the dirt, and then swung it over his shoulder in a mechanical motion.

You'd think digging a hole would be simple, right? Buckling on with the fact that he's the son of Satan and he's practically a powerhouse of spiritual energy that coal tars gratify towards him like paperclips to magnets, that this would be a simply easy task to complete, right? WRONG!

It's January, it's cold outside, and although there's no snow the ground is hard beneath the metal of the shovel and Rin feels as though after hours of work, he's barely dented the surface.

It's like the Earth keeps closing back up . . .

Earth. Closing up. Spiritual Energy . . .

Wait a damn minute!

Looking up he spotted an oddly dressed, demon perched in the tree above him. His glowing blue-green eyes made stark contrast with the night, like moonshine.

Pulling the lollipop he had been lathering with his tongue from his mouth, the demon boy gave a freaky, too-wide imitation of a smile. "Hello, little brother." He greeted in somewhat shaky Japanese, but as he kept speaking he seemed to become more fluent. "Let's play shall we?"

Fighting off hobgoblins for the next hour was not his idea of fun.


Ryuji liked to comment on things about Rin, what he liked and what annoyed him, which was fine because Rin wasn't known for his verbal filter either. So, when Ryuji started snapping at him about his slacker rate grades, messy room, and the merits of showering as opposed to bathing, Rin wasn't at all offended by his lover's complaints.

In fact, Rin felt the need to retort with the mention of Ryuji's foul smelling hair gel (really it wasn't foul, but it smelled like fruit), how he hated when he had gum and didn't share (second-hand, pre-chewed gum was not his favorite, especially when it came to a battle of tongues to get it—and then there was that incident where Ryuji nearly choked), and showed him just how relaxing baths could be.

"Well?" Rin asked, gravitation towards the other teen with the murky bubble water serving as there only cover.

Ryuji flushed and buried his face in his hand and tried to look away. "You're incorrigible."

Rin grinned, the corners of his lips turning upward into his cheeks and coming out slightly lopsided, but the tell-tale gleam of his fangs made Ryuji's breathe hitch.

"What?" Rin asked, smiling pulling down over his teeth.

"I, I like your smile—your fangs, they're . . . kinda cool."

Rin stared at the boy a moment, hunching his shoulders in the water.

Sure, he would have known by now if Ryuji had a problem with his teeth, but the comment had heat flush up to his cheeks.

Kinda cool . . . that's Ryuji speak for "kinda sexy."

As blood began to run southward too, Rin continued his stalk (swim?) forward and grazed his nails along the length of Ryuji's thigh, regaining the boy's attention; Rin flashed the same toothy smile.

"Hey, do you want to see how long I can hold my breath underwater?"

Ryuji seemed to catch the double-meaning to the innocent question when Rin's hand started moving again.


Rin was eating lunch in his super-secret-no-one-can-find-me-ha-ha-bitches place when the window of the fifth story, leftwing attic window overlooking the quad, swings open and an very infuriated looking faux-hawk head appears through the window in a leering manner he hadn't seen for a while.

Whether it be the glare, or the noise, it sent Rin's pigeons he'd been feeding soaring away into oblivion.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

Rin's heart rate settled a little and he released the roof shingles he had been clutching for dear life and isn't surprised when their broken under his fingers and his retracting nails remain flawless. The additional demon-induced strength took some getting use too, but sometimes he forgot—and Ryuji had the claw marks, bites, and bruises to prove it—and something ended up getting broken.

What did Bon want now? Usually they messed around after school—since most freshmen tended to wonder into any unlocked or available rooms, and being found out was not on Rin's to-do list—but a quick make-out session was a ritual between passing of regular school to cram school; just so they could have their fill of each other and could taunt and tease and seduce the other into a lust-riddled haze for class just to see who will last the longest before one of them attempts to reach under the table for the other.

"C'mon, I want you to have lunch with me."

Okay . . . that was unexpected.

"What?"

"Lunch, c'mon."

"Is that code for something? Are you into some sort of food fetish now?"

"No, just lunch."

"Uh, when did I agree to this?"

Bon pinned him with a look. "You haven't yet dumbass. Now get off the roof before you break yer neck."

Rin dutifully inched his claws back into the roof shingles and it doesn't go unnoticed by the Aria-in-training. He grabbed a fistful of Rin's jacket and shirt at the back of his neck and, like a lion cub being picked up by the scruff of his neck; he attempted to pull him through the window.

Rin then began to kick and pull and try to get away.


Miwa and Shima hated him.

Paku and Izumo didn't want to be anywhere near him.

Shiemi was scared of him.

Why the hell was he at this fucking table?

"So . . . uh . . . Rin-san . . .?" His head turned at the sound of his name and the blonde girl flinched. "Where's, uh, Blackie . . .?"

"Kuro," he corrected softly. "His name is Kuro."

That set them off. When Shiemi jumped and started to apologize profusely while the others glared at him (save Ryuji) and Rin's eyes widened an inch at the sight of the girl who looked near tears.

"Hey," She jumped. "I'm not mad, I was just telling you for Kuro, and he wanted you to know his real name." Trying to think of something that might calm her down he added. "He talks about you a lot, I think he likes you."

Shiemi was calm, but everyone still looked on edge.

"So . . ." Shima drawled, calling attention to himself. "Why are you sitting here?"

Both Ryuji and Konekomaru kicked and swatted at him in the same instant, making the pink-haired boy jump.

Rin stood, making them all jump again, and bowed his head. "If I'm making you uncomfortable then I'll just leave. I don't care if I have to be alone; I'm used to it by now." Then to Ryuji, "This was a bad idea."

He grabbed his lunch and went to look for a new super-secret lunch hiding spot, ignoring the disappointment lacing Ryuji's voice as he called for him.


He was greeted the next day with a bag of tempura from his favorite restaurant on his desk, the period before lunch and a note that asked him if he wanted to have lunch privately on the roof.

Rin felt inclined to decline and ate alone.


Ryuji kept trying to get to him for the rest of the week, between exams, and classes, searched the academy grounds for him. Rin had, twice, almost been caught and retaliated by running away, and when Ryuji followed, screamed like a banshee until Ryuji tired out, or Rin found a clever place to hide.

"Rin they're here!" Yukio's voice rung out.

Then he ran out of places to hide: Ryuji and the rest of his class where in his dorm, they were all being quizzed and spending the night and he was going to die.

Ryuji knew the Okumura dorm almost better than Rin—having spent so much time there and having a photographic memory helped—so all of the rooms Rin hid in would be null until further notice of his swift, morning departure.

"Rin?! Riiiiii-iiiiiiiin!"

Why did everyone keep bringing those people to him? They didn't want to get to know him. They couldn't even stand to be near him.

And that was fine. He didn't need them. They could all go an visit his father for all he cares.

"ONII-SAN! Get down here!"

Maybe he should run?

Something rough and callus grabbed at his tail expertly—not the edge of the scruff or the base—but something like a warning that made him squirm and fight back a moan at the same time.

Sure enough Ryuji was standing behind him. "We need to talk."


"What wrong?"

"Nothing!"

"Rin, talk to me."

"There's nothin' to talk about."

"There's plenty to talk about."

"No."

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"Because we don't need to talk! We have sex, we make-out, and that's it! Stop acting like this is something it's not!"

"Stop acting like you don't feel something too!"

"I don't!"


Ryuji's eyes were wide and slowly Rin's tail fell from his grasp and swung behind him loyally, peeking behind his waist towards Ryuji.

In that moment it felt like everything in that moment was suspended in mind-air, making Rin's insides feel funny, and full of an acidic lungful of guilt.

"I see . . ."

And when it hit the ground; Rin knew he was only lying to himself.

And Ryuji was gone.


Rin couldn't seem to find much joy in anything these days, even cooking reminded him of Ryuji. So he'd starve. Waste away and no one would notice and avoid the kitchen like the plague—he was sure Ukobach would take good care of his brother—and watched TV most of the time, until he saw movie previews. Then he just got pissed and upset all over again, so he waited for night and grabbed his shovel and headed for the boy's dormitory to keep digging that grav—he meant pit.

Aw, who was he kidding?

First, he'd bury Jacque here and then—after a few layers of cement—he'd bury Ryuji there too.

A grave for everyone who made him miserable.

He swore he'd kill the bastard for making him feel like this—weak and pliable, like everything in life was meaningless now—and after he buried him he'd be sure to plant some nice flowers. Hypoallergenic, since Ryuji tended to be allergic to the regular ones.


He waited, and waited, legs tensing and heart beating like a frantic war drum.

Now! He lunged out of the way just as Amaimon plowed into the ground right where Rin had been standing.

When the smoke, and lingering debris, cleared Rin leant over the narrow crater Amaimon—now unconscious—had crated and was pleased on the depth of it. "Thanks bro! Y'know, this was fun, let's do it again sometime, kay?" He called and kicked the shovel down.

Judging by the clunk it made, it landed on his head.


Okay, he wouldn't really bury Ryuji in his crater. Bastard he was, he was a good boyfri—person and deserved better than a shallow grave that he'd have to share with Jacque. Anyway, he would not kill Ryuji, but maiming him was still an option up from grabs, right?

The stupid, stupid hot-jerk kept staring at him and staring at him and staring at him and, prickliness of being watched aside, it reminded him of before the Kitchen Incident and weeks of build up before they're first touch and go tension release in the boy's lavatory.

With little thought to the subject, Rin thought it may wind up the same way again and they'd be getting hot and heavy in a bathroom stall by the end of the week, but then the days happened. Days where Ryuji wouldn't even look at him, or would glance, or not look, or defended him with less fight, and in those days Rin felt more alone than ever.

Alone, isolated, unwanted, thrown-out, cast-aside, derailed, losing his mind; he knew those feelings well and they wrapped around him like a coat that fit so well.

But this loneliness, this unwantedness, this isolation, was far too much for him and left a dented and blackened cavity in Rin's chest that he couldn't begin to know how to fill.

He wanted Ryuji back—hot, and glorious, and sun kissed, and all over him—but he didn't know where to start with that either.


"You're going to have to learn to let someone in." Yukio's words are as stark as the white walls around them, altogether unexpected and plainly said behind the otherwise normal atmosphere of the room.

Rin lowers his manga.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about—"

"Just say you're sorry, nii-san." His twin still doesn't look up from his desk, but the words strike him to his core and when Rin chucks the book at the back of his head before stomping out, he swore he heard Yukio chuckle.


Ryuji was wrapped in a checkered scarf and a caramel colored coat, his nose and ears were tipped red, showing that he might have been outside for a while, possibly just going back to his dorm. Rin felt his words lodge in his throat like a wad of gum, but managed to make some noise—snap a twig.

Ryuji whirled around, spotting him, and relaxed, a little. "What's up?"

"I, I wanted to say something."

Brilliant, he was a real Shakespeare.

"Rin—"

"No, I—um—well, I kinda of knew you felt that way about me, but I guess I was just ignoring it because well . . . you scare me Ryuji." The words sounded strange in his head and more so out loud, the faux-hawk boy's face made that obvious enough and Rin began to rethink this entire intervention.

"I—scare—you?" With everyone compressed with Ryuji's confusion, Rin wanted to bash his head into a tree.

"I grew up in a monastery, okay!? With bachelors and an old man and my brother, I don't exactly have a good home image on love, or relationships, or anything like that. It just feels weird—well, actually, I like everything we do, but that's not the point—and I don't know what to do."

Ryuji processed this and nodded, giving Rin a chance to continue.

"So, I guess, I wanted to say that I'm sorry for freakin' out. It wasn't all you, it was everyone else, and I want to belong with them, but I feel like a really, really don't and you actually make me feel like I belong. You might actually be my best friend." Ryuji's eyebrows rose amazingly high. "And I . . . I want you." Rin felt his face turn scarlet. "Not just in a sexual way either."

Ryuji continued to stare and a feeling of dread sweltered in the pit of Rin's stomach.

"But if you don't . . . want me," just like everyone else in the world. "I understand and—mmph!"

In five quick steps, the gaping space between them had been bridged and Ryuji's lips were on Rin's. With the lack of contact for the past week, Rin nearly scrambled to respond to the steady, smoothness of the kiss. It was unlike the others, not heavy, not teasing, but slow and wonderful and Ryuji's tongue brushed across Rin's lip, making him groan loudly in response.

"Do you ever stop talking?" Ryuji asked.

"Hmm, kiss me again and maybe I will?" Rin shrugged and pulled the other boy into another kiss, gentler with his insistence and curled himself into his warmth.

"Aaaah!"

The two broke to find a much frazzled looking Jacque making a hasty getaway and screaming something about "his eyes, his eyes, his gorgeous eyes!" before his screams were accompanied by the snapping of branches and then the Earth swallowed the irritating French kid.

Rin's eyes widened and he bit his lips together before lunging in the air with a loud whoop. "It WORKED!"

It took Ryuji a few hours to convenience Rin to tell a teacher of his whereabouts.


"How are we gonna do this . . .?" Ryuji asked, looking at a loss as their peers stared up at them standing before the class, and even Yukio looked a tad curious when they said they had an announcement, but he at least had a good idea.

Rin, with as much composure and calm he could gather at the moment, took Ryuji's hand in his own and entwined their fingers and deemed it right when Ryuji curled his fingers around his knuckles and threw his boyfriend a smirk that put his fangs on display, the same smile that drove him wild.

"Like this."

And with that, Ryuji titled as if on an axis and leant down to the shorter boy just as he was moving his free hand behind his neck, twisting his fingers into the short hairs at his nape to lead him down.

Their lips met like they had a hundred times before and the surprised gasps let them know that they got the message, loud and clear.


I'm the freakin' Comma Queen, I know, but I think this turned out alright.

Instead of hours it took weeks and this is the second elevation of Ryuji and Rin's relationships. How is it that all my friends with boyfriends come from broken homes and I'M the one with relationship issues? Whatever, the guys at my school suck. Birthday wish! Hot guys with heart. Give me a Ryuji, please, please, please, and make him straight . . . I'd date him if he was gay. I would be his beard.

Birthday's on Friday! Decided to update before the festivites begin!

One more chapter to go~

Review, even if it's one word, tell me what you think~!