Prompt: 1sentence Themes: Set Two—Beta
Warnings: mild language, innuendo, some sexual content, fluff.
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: It’s all about giving and taking, and living for now instead of living for what was or what will be.
Comments: This isn’t official by any means—I just kinda stole the themeset. *LOL* >.> I really, really love writing these two, and wish that I did it more often. I probably would if I had more ideas. XD Anyway, these are not exactly in chronological order or anything. They just revolve around our favorite Fighter and Sacrifice. I hope you enjoy. Please forgive the fact that I ramble.
Soubi always walks him to school these days, and Ritsuka always reaches for his hand; they ignore the whispers and the judgmental looks—ignore everything except fingers intertwining.
Ritsuka intently watches the dancers on the television, and when Soubi jokingly asks if Ritsuka wishes to be taught how to dance, the teenager predictably barks out a ‘no’, though the blush on his cheeks and the faraway look in his eyes tell Soubi that he is considering it.
If wishes were reality, Ritsuka thinks, Soubi would have never been touched by Ritsu; Seimei would be the kind older brother that Ritsuka remembers from earlier days; Soubi wouldn’t look so sad; and the name etched into Soubi’s skin (permanent, wrong) would have never happened in the first place.
It’s happened countless times by now, but Soubi can never quite get over the feel of having Ritsuka snuggled close to him in sleep, tail curling over his thigh and arms wrapping around him and head nuzzling; he thinks that, even years from now, this will still be one of those little wonders that always takes his breath away.
“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Soubi promises, showing Ritsuka that his cell phone battery really is dead, though Ritsuka refuses to be a pushover: he continues to sulk and pout, and it’s only when Soubi’s arms are around him that warmth blossoms, and all else fades.
Sometimes (more than that, really), he does things on a whim – touches Ritsuka’s face or combs fingers through his hair or grazes teeth along a furry ear – just to see how Ritsuka will react, and even if he gets yelled at, he always smiles and considers his little experiment to be more than worth it.
“You haven’t taken out the trash yet,” Ritsuka informs Soubi, noting the nearly-full trashcan, and it’s only later that he realizes he sounds like Soubi’s mother or Soubi’s wife, and he’s not sure he likes either of those particular comparisons.
.08. Whiskey and Rum
Ritsuka asks him about alcohol one day – wants to know what all of the fuss is about – and Soubi explains that he might figure it out when he’s a little older, smirks when Ritsuka grumbles, “Always when I’m older,” (and suspects that it has little to do with alcohol at all).
He’s at war with himself sometimes over what should and what shouldn’t be, over what was and what will be (he wishes that he knew), and then Soubi’s arms are around him, pulling him close, reminding him that all that really matters is what is.
Soubi has always considered marriage to be a life-changing thing (beautiful and wonderful and all that it should be), though he’s never understood why people consider weddings themselves to be so important—especially when he knows that one hand reaching for another (two sets of eyes peering into each other’s souls, two hearts beating as one) can be just as momentous as a vow taken in front of hundreds of witnesses.
He stays in his room, alone, on his birthday (his mother has long since stopped celebrating it), pretending that it’s just another day (at least Misaki is giving him the gift of blessed quiet), until there is a knock on his window and there’s Soubi’s brilliant smile and a hand-wrapped present being deposited into his slightly shaky hands—he starts to ask why, but Soubi beats him to it: “You should never have to celebrate your birthday alone, Ritsuka.”
There are times when Soubi wants to snap at her and hurt her for all of the pain she’s caused Ritsuka, though mostly, he just wants to tell her that he has every intention of being with her son forever (or as long as Ritsuka will have him, whichever comes first), whether he has her blessing or not.
Ritsuka asks Soubi what his favorite color is (for no apparent reason), and Soubi looks into his eyes and unwaveringly answers violet—Ritsuka blushes and tells him that he’s biased, but finds himself smiling and pressing a little closer to Soubi, regardless.
Ritsuka breathes his name like it’s some sort of prayer and inexpertly moves hands and mouth over Soubi’s skin, leaving trails of molten heat in their wake—and with him, it’s like drowning and burning and flying and falling; it’s like being blinded and truly seeing for the first time, and it’s never, ever been like this before.
When it all boils down to it, Ritsuka supposes (and he can admit this to himself now), loving Soubi is just about as easy as breathing.
Sometimes when Ritsuka mentions Seimei, his voice will break (and his heart, too, just a little), and Soubi finds it very easy to hate his former master then—finds it even easier to overlook the fact that Seimei’s name (forever on his body in the form of scars) bleeds every time he thinks such things.
Once upon a time, Ritsuka believed that Soubi only told him that he loved him because those were Seimei’s orders, but now… Ritsuka’s a little older and a little wiser and he knows better—savors those words every time he hears them (which is not at all infrequent).
“I’m too old for balloons,” Ritsuka protests, though Soubi notes (with amusement and affection and satisfaction) that Ritsuka holds onto it like a lifeline when he buys him one anyway.
It’s decidedly cooler outside than it is inside—Ritsuka can see his breath in the night air, and he knows that Soubi is concerned, keeps suggesting that they go back inside, but Ritsuka will have none of that: he simply snuggles deeper into Soubi’s jacket and closer to Soubi himself, whispering, “Keep me warm,” and Soubi does.
Seimei used to sometimes refer to Soubi as the bane of his existence and his eyes would be dull and hard and cold when he said it, which led Soubi to believe that it was true; Ritsuka will sometimes say the very same thing, but he’s always smiling, and there’s never anything more or less than amusement and affection shining in his eyes when he says it, and that is the difference between a heart breaking and a heart healing.
Sometimes, there’s too much noise in his head—too many scattered thoughts, too many painful memories that he’d much rather forget (if he could), but there’s always, always wonderful quiet when he’s in the protective circle of Soubi’s arms.
Soubi supposes that every person has his or her own idiosyncrasies, and there’s no shortage to be found when it comes to him, either: he has his own odd little quirks which he’s certain would cause most people to turn tail and run by now… but thankfully, Ritsuka loves and accepts him as a whole (peculiarities included).
Ritsuka asks (already knowing the answer) if Soubi would die for him, and Soubi unhesitatingly answers yes, but Ritsuka doesn’t want that: he knows that parts of Soubi died for Seimei, and parts of him died for Ritsu, and so Ritsuka gently cups Soubi’s face in his hands and breathes, “But for me, I want you to live.”
Soubi doesn’t like fighting with Ritsuka—he doesn’t like it when they argue, and he doesn’t like it when Ritsuka’s anger is directed at him; however, he must admit that he sometimes deliberately provokes his Sacrifice simply due to the fact that Ritsuka looks absolutely adorable (and completely edible) when he’s mad.
Ritsuka knows that Soubi could have given up on everything even before they met – could have given up on love and life and warmth and kindness and friendship – but he never quite gave up on any of those things, and for that, Ritsuka will always be grateful (and relieved, for where would they be now had Soubi just given up?).
If Seimei said ‘jump’, Soubi would always ask ‘how high?’ but with Ritsuka, it’s so very different (always has been): it’s never ‘jump’, but ‘stand still and stay with me for a little while’, and Soubi is always all too happy to fulfill his Sacrifice’s request.
When he was younger, Ritsuka used to wonder why Soubi would make such a fool out of himself just to tug a smile from his lips, but now that he’s a bit older, he doesn’t have to wonder or ask: he simply knows.
They’ve used paintbrushes as makeshift swords (evidenced by the flecks of dried paint on their clothes and skin), and now they’ve given up on their battle, choosing instead to collapse on the living room floor in a tangle of limbs and laughter, and Soubi only laughs harder when Ritsuka says, “Don’t quit painting, Soubi—your swordsmanship is terrible.”
Ritsuka isn’t one for jewels—he doesn’t care for diamonds or emeralds or rubies or opals or sapphires… and then he stumbles upon aquamarine, thinks of Soubi’s eyes, and believes that perhaps he can make one exception.
Soubi knows that Ritsuka’s gone through a lot of trouble to make his birthday special (cake, food, presents which have yet to be opened) and Soubi appreciates it more than his Sacrifice will ever know, but he winds up tugging the squirming teenager into his lap all the same, murmuring against his lips, “You didn’t have to do all of that, you know; all I need is right here: just this.”
There’s just something about his Fighter’s smirk (though Ritsuka can’t quite put his finger on it) that makes his heart pound twice as fast and brings color to his cheeks and makes his stomach feel all topsy-turvy and makes his knees feel weak, and he has this sneaking suspicion that Soubi knows—which would explain why he does it so damn often.
Soubi knows that Ritsuka has saved him the moment Kio looks at him and says, “That kid’s changed you, Sou-chan—you’re not drowning in sorrow anymore, but you’ve moved past that; you’re alive again.”
Even years later, Ritsuka will still sometimes call Soubi ‘stupid’ and ‘dummy’, but Soubi never takes offense—always smiles and ruffles Ritsuka’s hair, and Ritsuka wonders if it’s because his Fighter is seeing that same twelve-year-old little boy – the one he used to be, the one Soubi was first drawn to – all over again.
Soubi doesn’t consider himself to have a good voice; most days, he thinks he can’t carry a tune, so it always comes as a surprise when Ritsuka curls close to him and asks him to sing (and Soubi always sings a quiet lullaby that his mother taught him, used to sing to him when he was little, before).
Ritsuka knocks impatiently on Soubi’s door – he’s soaking wet and he’s cold and he wants to be somewhere warm, damnit – and when Soubi answers, he looks Ritsuka up and down and of course asks if he’s forgotten his umbrella; Ritsuka’s sarcastic reply (as he stumbles into Soubi’s warm, waiting arms) is, “Of course not—I left it on purpose just to see if I would melt when I went outside.”
Ritsuka never asks for the sordid details of the things that Ritsu-sensei used to do to him, nor does he ask for details of the things that Seimei used to do to him; however, when they’re together and Ritsuka is tracing over his scars with fingers and mouth and is looking at him like he wishes he could turn back time, he has the feeling that Ritsuka really has no need to ask, because he already knows.
Ritsuka isn’t entirely sure when Kio walks in the room, but he knows that the older man catches him mumbling to himself about Soubi and breakfast and bed, and he only blushes even more when Kio amusedly tells him, “You know, you shouldn’t talk to yourself, kid—people might think you’re crazy.”
Soubi will never forget the first time Ritsuka made room for him in the bed, reached out to him, and said: “Stay with me for a little while, Soubi—just until I fall asleep, if you have to be somewhere;” and Soubi stayed, and was still there when Ritsuka woke the next morning.
Soubi shares his clothes when Ritsuka forgets (and sometimes doesn’t forget) to bring his own over to Soubi’s apartment—and every now and again, he’s brave enough to wear one of Soubi’s button-up shirts (and nothing else) because he rather likes the way Soubi stares at him when he does.
It’s almost funny how Soubi can be in a room full of people and feel alone, and yet, when Ritsuka merely touches his hand, he feels home and whole.
Soubi asks him where he would like to go today, fingers gently combing through his hair, and Ritsuka snuggles deeper into his Fighter’s warmth, replying, “Nowhere but here.”
At first, after Seimei returned, Soubi figured he could possibly be neutral, but one look into Ritsuka’s wide, violet eyes told him that neutrality was not possible—that he’d have to choose Beloved or Loveless… and years later, he does not (and will never) regret the path he chose.
The first morning Ritsuka wakes up newly earless and tailless, he glances over at Soubi and finds that the blonde is already awake and watching him with just a hint of a blush gracing his cheeks, and Ritsuka bursts into laughter because it is so strange that, for once, Soubi is blushing and Ritsuka himself is not (well, not yet, at least).
“It’s just an excuse to be close to you,” Soubi explains to an affronted Ritsuka (and how the teenager can be so shocked and embarrassed over this after what happened last night is beyond him) as he steps into the shower with him, and he makes sure that whatever point Ritsuka might try to argue is lost beneath his mouth, pressed quickly and hungrily against Ritsuka’s (and his Sacrifice doesn’t seem to mind so much at all).
Ritsuka thinks that Soubi is most beautiful when he first wakes up in the morning (ruined hair and bleary eyes and an ‘I hate mornings’-frown and all), and Ritsuka always greedily drinks him in, basking in the fact that he is the one that gets to see Soubi like this (first thing in the morning), and no-one else.
“It’s funny how the ground looks like it’s touching the sky when it isn’t,” Ritsuka comments one evening as they are leaning against one another, watching the sunset—unlike sky and land, they simply cannot not touch.
Soubi has always bravely protected Ritsuka, though there are times when Ritsuka knows that unpleasant memories of what was take their toll on his Fighter (mostly in the form of fitful dreams), and it is then that Ritsuka curls close and gently shushes him—it is then that Ritsuka becomes the brave one.
Soubi had never really thought he was a good person (Ritsu-sensei had led him to believe that he was a dirty troublemaker, and Seimei had led him to believe that he was nothing more than a dog at his beck-and-call who deserved nothing), but all of that changed when he met Ritsuka—Ritsuka has always made him feel like he deserves to be loved, and nobody’s ever made him feel that way before.
Once some of the pancake batter somehow winds up on the ceiling, Ritsuka is all too happy to turn the cooking over to Soubi—he might be able to savor the taste of victory within the kitchen one of these days, but right now, he’s simply concerned with savoring the taste of fresh blueberry pancakes (Ritsuka: 0, the kitchen: 1).
“I win,” Ritsuka says triumphantly as he straddles Soubi, curious fingers sliding beneath Soubi’s shirt, and Soubi isn’t at all sure what they were mock-fighting about, but when Ritsuka’s lips follow the line of his neck and when one of Ritsuka’s hands delves lower, fingers slipping beneath the band of his jeans, and when Ritsuka breathes I love you, over and over against Soubi’s skin, the blonde is all too happy to admit defeat: to the victor go the spoils (and it’s even better when Ritsuka considers Soubi himself to be the reward).
Oh my god, I miss writing these two. I think I love writing Ritsuka the most, because I’m a bit like him. >.> Anyway, let me know what you guys think! Favorite particular sentence? :)