"It's okay, I understand…" Ryner murmured. His dark eyes - sadder than ever but at the same time so true - never left Sion's.
"At least it's you, right?" Ryner grimaced, "I could imagine worse people for the job." He closed his eyes and then opened them and there was determination in them, the kind of determination that Sion hadn't seen in them for years.
"Still though," he continued grimly, "I've got to pass because I care about you too much to let you go through with it. I mean, come on! It's a fool's errand anyway." He flicked a few raindrops off his lashes. He mused, "Still lots of monsters out there," the for me to kill went unsaid. He gazed up at the rain and the stormy clouds longingly as if they could wash away his sins.
An image of his favorite, psychopathic yet beautiful blonde companion's face flashed before his eyes. "Well, that, and I've promised this to someone else. I've already decided who gets to kill me," Ryner confided with conviction.
"Ferris," Sion breathed in realisation, ignoring the slight twinge he felt of something he didn't want to name. If he did, he couldn't hide from it like wanted to, but at the same time, he burned with it.
Ryner could practically hear the 'Of course' in Sion's voice as he himself confirmed, "Yeah."
"I have to admit, I'm jealous, but I've no room to complain. It's not like I've honored my promise to you, now is it?" Sion sounded slightly sarcastic and... not disappointed, but angry simultaneously.
"You have a point." Ryner was vaguely rueful. "Even so," he started walking forward without any of the lethal grace that normally accompanied his steps, "I still consider you one of my best friends." He stopped, his lips inches from Sion's, so close he could feel the soft puff of Sion's breath on his face..
"And I, you" the king replied, his voice hollowing as each word was spoken. There was desire in those words, but desire being repressed with each second.
"So are you going to go through with it?" Ryner's hand reached out and he wove his fingers into Sion's hair, going even closer, impossibly close, his eyes on Sion's lips.
"Yes," Sion whispered hoarsely, voice so soft Ryner almost didn't hear the confirmation of his death sentence. Almost.
"Your mind's made up then?" he didn't know why he was even asking the question. Sion had never been the kind of person who struggled with indecision. He made a choice and clung to it the way he clung to his throne.
"It is." The movement of Sion's lips was mesmerizing him.
Ryner's eyes traveled up Sion's face, away from his lips, over high, sculpted cheekbones and a long, straight nose to meet molten gold framed by white lashes. "And I can't persuade you otherwise?" Now he was just stalling.
"I'm afraid not, Ryner." I'm sorry, his eyes were saying. "This ends tonight." I don't have a choice. "For good."
"Don't," pleaded Ryner, his lips mere millimeters away as he grasped Sion's shoulder and hauled him in and then he was kissing his oldest and dearest friend, the man who wanted to end his existence.
Sion reacted instantly, his sword fell from his left hand, arm wrapping around the Alpha Stigma's waist, his right hand buried in a head of wet dark hair, clenching his fist in the soft locks and pressing him closer. His lips devoured Ryner's with something, a lust, a greed, gluttony, passion he'd never experienced before. He shoved the protesting Mad Hero to the back of his mind and, in his frenzy for more, more, more, forgot about him. He stepped forward, once, twice, three times and Ryner stumbled backwards and gasped when his back hit the wall and he was being crushed against it by his surprisingly strong sovereign.
When they couldn't breathe for want of air, their lips parted and Ryner was panting. The white shirt Sion had given him to change into in the carriage exposed his neck and the top of his chest and Sion was taking full advantage of that. He bit down, hard, and Ryner let out a sharp cry as the pain went straight to - and then Sion was peppering kisses and sweet, stinging nips across the rest his bare skin, down his neck, at the base of his throat, over his collarbones. Each time the king's lips touched him, he felt like his skin had been set on fire.
Their hips rocked together, their cheeks flushed, their hands exploring each other's bodies, Sion's hand on his thigh and lifting his leg up to hitch it around his waist. Eyes closed, Ryner moaned the name of the man taking him apart, once, then a second time, and then felt Sion's lips meet his own again, tongue forcing its way into his mouth, gradually but deeply, as devouring and hungry and demanding as before, but this time was slower, gentler, and he could taste Sion on his lips.
But there was a hint of saltiness on his tongue. It took Ryner a second to realize that Sion was crying.
Their lips parted a second time, their eyes opened. They stared into each other's souls, the Mad Hero and the Lonely Demon, but they weren't just the Mad Hero and the Lonely Demon. They were also Sion Astal and Ryner Lute. Sion and Ryner, under the burning rain.
"Sion," Ryner murmured, bringing his best friend's face closer to his own once again. "Sion, you have to know by now, you have to know, even if you kill me in the next moment, you have to know that I'm in love you. Sometimes I think I've loved you since that day at the Academy when you saw right through me. You made me want to be better, you made me want to be more, you made me better. Thank you."
The spell broke. Before their lips could meet again, before Ryner could kiss Sion again, he felt a short, sharp pain in his abdomen and everything went black.
The next time Ryner opened his eyes, he was in his old, dank prison cell and the spider from all those months ago was still spinning its' web, only this time, unlike him, it had another of its' kind keeping it company.