He would just remain there, he decided – face firmly planted into the hardwood, rear awkwardly in the air, in a coffin of blankets. Yes, dieing didn't sound at all unappealing at the moment, and it was definitely multiple times better than resurfacing to face Soubi. How, pray-tell, was he supposed to explain to this pervert that removing his pants in his sleep was entirely innocent?! That didn't even sound innocent to Ritsuka himself.
Soubi examined the picture before him – from the edge of the bed where he lay, all that could really be seen was a spindly black tail wagging furiously at his eye-level. The rest was a tangle of awkwardly jutting teenaged limbs and a still-warm comforter on the floor below him. He craned his neck for a better view, unable to suppress the sloppy grin that slid across his face as he was greeted with the sight of his master's ducked head, and more importantly, raised hips.
"You look lovely this morning, Ritsuka." He smirked cheekily.
Groan from somewhere within the blankets.
"Are you planning on coming up, or shall I continue talking to your tail… and everything it is attached to?"
Angry squeal from same place within the blankets.
"Soubi you pervert!"
Ritsuka rocked back on his heels, quickly finding himself sitting upright and pulling a white sheet over his head.
"… It wasn't what it looked like." he grumbled.
Soubi was almost certain he could see the boy's flushed skin shine through the fabric.
"Oh?" The sly man brushed his straw-colored hair behind one ear before deftly plucking away anything obscuring Ritsuka from his sight - He really wanted to see him explain this.
Ritsuka, hands shaking and eyes firmly averted to the floor as it was spectacularly interesting, shifted his hips uncomfortably under Soubi's amused stare;
"I was just, you know, taking care of your cuts a-and that one - " He momentarily looked up, pointing out the offending mark, and immediately regretted it as Soubi's undone jeans met him at eye-level.
"Ah! Do those up, Soubi!"
"Is that an order?"
"Uh, god, no, I'm just ask–"
Score. The soft, sly grin never left Soubi's lips as he trapped Ritsuka's fingers in his own before the boy had the chance to blink.
"In that case, you having undone them, you do them up." He all but purred, cutting him off and slowly pulling the boy's hand to where it had hovered above the jean button what now seemed to be a long time ago.
"What, ngh, n-no Soubi, I-I no, d-do it yourself….." His eyes never left their entertained hands as the larger of the two guided what he understood must be his own fingers to their destination. If not for his logical thinking, he would never believe that that was, indeed, his appendage – it was as though it had a mind of it's own.
Why wasn't he resisting? He thought idly. Possibly because his lightheadedness had draped a veil over all things that indicated he should stop…
Unlike the younger male, Soubi had eyes only for the beautiful boy in front of him. He watched him intently as within seconds his entire demeanor changed; a moment ago, Ritsuka sat stiffly upright, hands clasped tightly in his lap, skin painted scarlet with embarrassment. Now, his shoulders hung limply forward, falling and rising irregularly with the breaths that made his dry, parted lips quiver. His eyes were half-idled, the scarlet shade on his cheeks leaking onto his usually milk-white neck.
Ritsuka shuddered involuntarily as his fingertips brushed the rough fabric of Soubi's jeans, snapping him out of his drunken state. Suddenly it was no longer his mind making the decisions, rather his body, and that, at the moment, was humming with an unquestionable desire.
"No." He said lowly, running his hands along the creases of the jean, outlining the older man's groin boldly. Soubi raised an eyebrow.
"Leave them like this." The origin of this shamelessness was a mystery to him, but there Ritsuka was, he realized, acting much more like Soubi usually did. 'I've been spending too much time around him' he thought briefly before looking up at the man through thick lashes, as though daring him to disagree.
He didn't.
Instead, the moment Ritsuka lifted his eyes, hands dashed to his sides, pulling him flush against the side of the bed. The boy took in a deep gasp, reflexively propping his forearms against Soubi's chest and unknowingly pressing the palms of his hands against two pink spots on otherwise white skin. Soubi exhaled raggedly against the soft fur of his master's ear, noticing the hairs stand on end following his action. He wrapped his arms more securely around the impossibly small waist between them, pulling Ritsuka up to sit on his own hips, the younger male's chin pressed between his neck and shoulder and blew against the downy black fur again, relishing the reaction he received.
This time he dared to softly capture the black tip between his teeth, pursing his lips against the hot fur and flicking his tongue against it ever-so-carefully; he knew by now that one bold move - one step too far - and this rare chance to show his master how he wanted him like nothing else in the world, would be over. One wrong touch and Ritsuka's ears would fold back against his scalp angrily, he would push himself away from Soubi with stiff hands, and be certain to slam the door on his way out.
It had happened many times before.
However, this time was different. Soubi knew that when a small, stifled "oh" broke away from Ritsuka's lips, which were now firmly clasped against his neck. He was trying to stay quiet, the man realized.
That, he was – having lay his forehead on Soubi's shoulder, Ritsuka found himself surrounded by warm, sleep-smelling skin and the same golden spider web of hair he observed earlier that morning. He pressed his lips against the soft junction of Soubi's neck. The small sounds that managed to escape his throat made him feel stupid; he had never thought he'd be tempted to make them, although, admittedly, he had never thought he'd being doing any of this.
Less cautious now, Soubi trailed nips, licks, barely-there kisses along the side of the boy's jaw, watching the skin become littered in goosebumps as his lips became more demanding. Soon Ritsuka was arching the small of his back forward, pressing himself against his stomach and chest, straining his neck to allow Soubi more room to play along the supple skin. His fingers curled almost painfully against the older male's shoulders, short nails scraping his flesh and then immediately smoothing over the crescent-shaped marks with his palms.
Soubi's hands, too, were not idle – Ritsuka noticed that when suddenly, those long pale fingers were stroking skin, and no the fabric of his shirt.
"S-soubi!" He gasped, alarmed, attempting to prop himself up and failing as strong hands pushed him back down against the man.
"Yes," Came his murmured reply, his lips still refusing to part from the neck they were assaulting. Undaunted by Ritsuka's discomfort, his hands had crept along his bare sides, drawing indecipherable patterns there.
"Soubi let me go!"
