Disclaimer: I don't make any profit off Loveless, because I do not own it and have no right to. If I did have that right, I would not be writing... well, maybe I'd still be writing fanfiction. Probably.

Summary: Loving your little brother is one thing. Being a good older brother is one thing. Being a good older brother and loving your little brother should go hand in hand, but just how tightly intertwined are they? Where's the limit, the line to be drawn? Seimei would argue there was none. Ritsuka wouldn't respond. Soubi would say it didn't matter; the Aoyagi brothers crossed it long ago anyway.

Warnings: For this chapter, just suggestive content and pedophilic incest between minors; disturbing imagery and possibly triggering suggestive material

Chapter: One-Guilty Pleasures and Their Sick Relief

Ritsuka's POV

Ritsuka idly tapped his pencil against his desk, wishing school was over already. It was a real waste of time for him, but worse was just how dull and irritating it was to attend classes. And not just the classes, but the people themselves. So loud and obnoxious and talkative. They chattered and chattered on, ignorant of more important matters, of things beyond who was dating who and what hairstyle and outfit a celebrity had chosen that particular week, ignorant of just how precious their lives really were-

"You're precious, my Ritsuka. So precious. I just want you so badly..."

Ritsuka jerked, inhaling deeply and shaking his head slightly, like he had a headache he wanted to push away.

Life shouldn't be squandered away doing such useless things.

But what did he know? Who was he to judge, to eye social circles disdainfully, when he himself had never experienced such things? Maybe they knew what they were doing. Maybe what they were experiencing was a wonderful thing, the feeling of belonging and fitting in, and he was the odd one out, the one who was squandering his life. Maybe.

But he honestly didn't want to "experiment." Let them have their friends. He prefered being alone. Being around people made him... uneasy, at best.

"Mr. Aoyagi?"

Ritsuka glanced up, his eyes still staring into the distance. "Yes sir?"

"The bell has rung. You may leave."

The young boy nodded respectfuly, standing up and walking silently from the classroom, his thoughts immediately drifting away again.

What now? Stay afterschool and risk further socialization or go home?

"Ritsuka, are you avoiding me?"

"No, I'm just not sure if I want to go home," Ritsuka muttered to himself, stopping at his locker and staring down at his shoelaces in contemplation. Then sighing, deciding that going home was really his only option. He would be disappointed in him if he stayed. And his mother... well, no, she didn't matter. It was his opinion that he really cared about.

He slipped out the school, trying his best to blend with the crowd and not stand out to any individuals. Keeping to himself and avoiding the spotlight were his top priorities at school. Maintaining decent grades was a secondary priority, a priority he had simply to keep his father off his back and letting his mother believe everything was "alright." Making sure his mother never knew that anything was different, that anything was wrong, that nothing had been alright since that day was his second priority at home.

And his first priority?

Keeping him happy.

"Please just touch it, please Ritsuka, do it for you big brother. Don't you love me?"

Ritsuka sighed, feeling that familiar clench in his gut. He jerked, the muscles in his stomach twisting painfully. No, not now, not now, he begged himself. I'm too close to school grounds, please. The throwing up. The vomiting. Stress-vomiting. It was something he'd managed to keep to himself, something he'd managed to keep away from even his brother.

"Ritsuka, oh, Ritsuka! I love you, I-ah!-I love you... so much."

The memories came back, unbidden. He staggered, willing them away, to leave him alone so that he could walk in peace, live in peace, just at least breathe normally, why couldn't he manage that at least? Why did these memories plague his thoughts, his every moment? Why couldn't they just leave him alone? And if they could, would they ever? Would he ever be able to escape them?

"Hey, check out that spaz over there!"

Ritsuka didn't hear the call and even if he had, he was lost in his own world.

"Ritsuka, when people love each other, they do this. Don't you love me? Don't you love me, little brother? I love you so much. No, shhh, calm down, let me show you..."

"What is his deal anyway? He's such a freak! I heard he's bulimic."

"Oh please, bulimic?"

"Yeah! I heard he throws up in the toilets after lunch, cause he, like, has like this self-hate thing going on."

"You think he's emo?"

"Duh!"

"Ritsuka, don't hide from me! Let me in! Please, Ritsuka, I didn't mean to hurt you! Let me in!"

"Come on, let's go see what's wrong with him!"

"Ritsuka, open the damn door! I just want to talk! Ritsuka! Damn it, I'm going to break this door..."

"Hey, spazoid! Emo boy!"

"Ritsuka? Are you crying? Oh Ritsuka, I'm so sorry... Here, hug me, please, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

Ritsuka sank to his knees, his eyes watery. His throat began to burn. Bile collected in his mouth and he leaned forward, onto all fours. A shiver crawled from the base of his spine up his neck. His head jerked forward and he felt warm vomit creeping against his cheeks. He opened his mouth and retched, turning his head to the right to get it onto the grass and not on the sidewalk.

It was wrong, so wrong, to feel almost relieved. To feel almost satisfied to be empty, to be rid of such disgusting matter that resided inside of him. He always felt a little guilty after stress-vomiting. But he also felt relief because there was always those brief few minutes when it felt like that tightly-wound coil in his chest was gone, unraveled. After vomiting, the coil would straight itself out and he'd be able to walk and feel like a normal kid. He'd be able to pretend, for just a few minutes, that nothing was wrong with him.

But then his stomach would tense again and the coil would be back, tightened even more than before.

The only way to loosen it was throwing up.

No, he never willingly tried to loosen it. He didn't stick his finger far back in his throat. He didn't do drugs or alcohol, even though he knew such things would at least make his mind forget about the coil.

He resolved to throwing up and dealing with the guilty pleasure it provided.

"Ew, oh my god, you were right! Look, he did throw up. Gross!"

Ritsuka heard those words and froze.

Oh no.

He'd been spotted.

Word Count-1,397

Note: Yes, there is more to come. No, I doubt this will be as long as I usually make my fics. And yes, the length of chapters will be longer once I better learn how to deal with transitions. Yes, I'd greatly appreciate reviews, which were my prompt to continue this in the first place, and yes, Soubi will be here soon. Any other questions you might have will be answered in later chapters and if they don't, then they're the wrong questions. See you next time.