A/N : Not mine. All Kouga Yun's. I'm sorry I forgot to write the disclaimer in the first part.

CHAPTER 2

Ritsuka has always been attentive to me. He ordered very little but those were not to be countered and they usually pertained to me.

Don't lie, even if the truth is worse. A lie by omission is still a lie. First rule, no initiative allowed.

Never expect violence from him, not even as punishment. Second rule, never to be argued. Ever.

Disclose and treat your wounds. Third rule, never to be trifled with.

Take care of yourself. Fourth rule, boggled my mind for a long time. I had assumed then he expected me to be fit for battle. As if I would ever be remiss about such a fundamental rule. I had concluded he believed me stupid. Considering I was still beloved, that wasn't so far-fetched to me. But of course that wasn't what he had meant. I should have known better, coming from Ritsuka. Only he would order my well-being and emotional peace. As if that meant anything to me back then. As if the concept wasn't completely foreign. But Ritsuka had ordered. There were so few of them, surely I could manage only four of them. Couldn't I? Ritsuka has always tended to challenge people, to make them rethink their beliefs, their opinions, their behaviour, even their value. I wasn't immune. But the process has been — painful, to say the least.

Ritsuka has never really accepted his role as Sacrifice. He would wear the cloak of leader for a battle without hesitation but he would shed it the instant we win. He would assume the name of Loveless confidently when confronting another unit despite his deep hatred of it. Was it because of his brother, his mother or his own soft heart that he was so loathed of this power and hierarchy? I've never managed to know. I'm not sure he understands it himself.

But one thing I was sure of : this older Ritsuka was self-confident and knew exactly what he wanted. I smiled when I saw him stride purposefully towards me with two beers. This was becoming a habit. He wouldn't appreciate it if I pointed it out so I kept silent and smiled wider. A slight twitch of his eyes let me know he wasn't fooled.

He plopped down on the couch next to me and proceeded to gulp his drink. I swear he had spent too much time around Kio when he had been a child. He carefully put away his empty bottle and snuggled against me. What had been cute a few years ago had become very arousing. A willing Ritsuka cuddling against me was not a sight I ever wished to forget.

My Sacrifice has been more engaging these last weeks. He initiated physical proximity after a minimal-contact spell of several years. The change was delightful but I wasn't sure how far I could push it, so I let him set the pace. After all, he was the one who still sported ears.

He made small talk as his hand drew sweet nothing under my shirt. Can you be cute at 17? I rubbed light circles on his back, coaxing him closer. When he finally mustered up enough grit, he kissed me, small, soft kisses. His lips moulded against mine. I could feel the warmth radiating from his cheeks. My sweet, cute Ritsuka. Still blushing over a small peck? Would he swoon if I kissed him properly? My hand snaked up to his hair, slightly more forceful and I held his head against mine. I kissed his upper lip, sucking lightly on it, nibbling and teasing. I ran the tip of my tongue to appease the sensitive skin. My fingers found a velvet ear and I stroke it tenderly, respectfully. I still marvelled at Ritsuka's resilience. When most of his friends were earless, he still had them. My ministrations made him gasp and I shamelessly took advantage of his slightly opened mouth to deepen the kiss. I felt him stiffen in surprise but he didn't pull away.

One hand on his back held him close and the other massaged his scalp while I took sweet time savouring him. Kissing him was enthralling and when our tongues met and danced, he literally melted against me and moaned very softly. I admit I enjoyed it every bit as much as he did. I cupped his face and drew back slightly, letting him regain his composure and giving him the opportunity to pull back altogether. He peered at me through hooded eyes, his red, swollen lips begging to be kissed again but no sound made it past his throat. He inched closer to me, intent evident and stilled suddenly, his face flushing scarlet. I unconsciously arched an eyebrow and raked my eyes over him for some injury. Had he made a wrong move and hurt himself? He stammered something about going home and made a hasty retreat, leaving me quite bewildered before it struck me. Uncomfortable in your own clothes, my Ritsuka? I smirked. Since I shared his predicament and I was about to choose between smoking outside in the frigid December air or having a cold shower, I didn't feel particularly guilty. And kissing him senseless was definitely worth it. I touched my lips absentmindedly. Yes, definitely worth the trouble.

For the next few weeks, being kissed thoroughly again seemed to be his sole intention. Snogging sessions? I wasn't about to argue. And Ritsuka was a quick learner. He was also very devious and would kiss me to avoid questions and situations he had no intention of addressing. He would kiss me to embarrass our friends or make them leave. He would kiss me out of jealousy. He would kiss me to suit his needs and purposes. Most of the time however, he would kiss me because we both enjoyed it very much.

That's how I've found myself in bed with him. It certainly was very pleasant. I wondered briefly how he had managed to coax me towards my bedroom but his warm hands on my skin stopped my train of thought. My lips were already tingling and he was nibbling on my ear. I scratched one of his cat-ear until he purred in appreciation. One thing leading to another, we were both aroused by the time the question stilled my hands. No amount of foreplay or fooling around the previous weeks would quell the suddenly burning question. I had to be sure.

"Ritsuka? Do you know how to — proceed?" He mumbled indistinctively, trailing featherlike kisses up to my neck where he set about leaving a love bite.

"Sure," he managed, his hands roaming freely on me and for the next few minutes, making any thought unnecessary. But when his caresses began to be more intense and his lips burned my skin, I pushed him away slightly, just enough to stop his lovely ministrations and concentrate on the topic.

"Ritsuka," I said again to draw his attention. "Do you really know what to do?" He looked at me with a small frown, clearly annoyed at my interruption and the subsequent hold on any physical contact.

"Yes, I do," he grumbled before kissing me again. By the time he decided to elaborate, he had managed to get us both half-naked. I realized then a leading Ritsuka was a major turn-on. Did I really want an answer to my question? It seemed so pointless... The soft rumble of his voice registered well before his words.

"I relax," he began and snaked his tongue in my mouth, enjoying yet another kiss, "and let you do all the hard work," he finished playfully, his voice rougher and his breath shorter. I literally froze, taken aback.

"What's wrong?" He asked, attentive now, sensing that not only wasn't I returning his fondling but I wasn't even enjoying them anymore either. I stuttered. I am not one who stammers and loses his words. But right then, I stuttered.

"I can't possibly —" I blinked. I must have been a sore sight, sitting almost naked in bed, blinking stupidly the incomprehension dimming my intellectual capacities.

"Why not? Have you become impotent lately?" He arched an eyebrow. Never a good omen. Usually meant he was about to lose patience.

"No! But I — it — I mean —" there I was, sputtering again. How could he make me so undeniably inarticulate without even trying? "I could hurt you." I finally managed a simple sentence.

"I wasn't aware it is supposed to be painful." Oh, not losing patience, my mistake. Only teasing. I'm sorry, not at my maximal cognitive activity. Surprised the hell out of me after all. Not mentioning the blood supply had been momentarily redirected and was only now flowing back to my brain.

"Can't we — swap?"

"Swap?" He repeated in a deceptively low and soft voice. He leaned forward, his face inches from mine, suspicion on his features. "Please tell me you're not suggesting I should be on top because I'm your Sacrifice."

Don't lie.

"I —" What should I say? I could already see in his eye anger boiling. "I don't know any other way." That much was true even if I was pretty sure that wouldn't win his approval. Can I pride myself in how much I know him? He straightened and I braced myself against the oncoming storm. That's what happened each time I couldn't censor a thought born out of my initial training. I've managed to ruin a perfectly fine afternoon. Ritsuka flushed again. I find it more pleasant when it isn't in anger.

"Fuck, Soubi!" Swearing? Then he's definitely beyond angry. "Do you really have to bring such crap inside the bedroom too?" He hopped off the bed and snatched his clothes. "Can't believe it," he muttered as he got dressed. "Not in the mood anymore, " he declared, a hand on the doorknob and his frown still firmly in place. "I'm going home." The front door slammed.

I drew out a cigarette and took a long drag from it. I wasn't alarmed because I knew Ritsuka wasn't angry with me per se. Took me years to understand and accept it but I've reached the point in our relation where I could stay home and not worry unnecessarily when my Sacrifice stormed out. That was Ritsuka at his best. He would rage, stomp his feet, slam the door, leave in a huff and give me the cold shoulder for a few days but he would come back to me. After all, kissing was so much better than sulking. Maybe next time I will manage to just shut up and kiss him. Maybe next time we could agree long enough to make an adult out of him.

Hm. Yes, that was very promising.

The end.