Disclaimer: See the first chapter.
A/N: A brief Candy Land reference again. (Please don't kill me.) Implied bad stuff. Boys kissing, too. (Edit: And I realized I forgot to say this, but a little more than kissing.) Mwahaha. If this isn't your bag, hit "back." And sorry for the long delay in updating... I know I'm evil. Oh, and I have to credit fanart for some ideas, too. For the ear piercing thing: http: homepage3 . nifty . com / galepo /. And for the black nail polish: http: sexualdeviate . fc2web . com / hira . html. Sorry for the weird spacing. I know it's wonky. (Thanks to SakuraBubbles for pointing out the first fanart similarity. :D My memory suxxors.)
Thanks to: SakuraBubbles the Muffin Child (No shaved cats in this chapter... Hopefully, next one. :D), Caeli Et Terra (It doesn't exist in the future – They said it was because it's a really old apartment. And nipples? They're fun. XD), and ShadowSilence (I love your reviews! Seriously, I really do. They're so long and stuff. And I'm a little torn, too, about what Rion's going to do with two boys who want him... Gwahaha.)
Chapter Three – Disorderly Conduct
Cain had stopped eating as much as he used to. Rion knew that he couldn't afford to, with such slender body already. Of course, he knew this because they had a similar build, not because he would suddenly catch himself looking or anything. That curve in his hip, those slim legs, that taut stomach, that...face... Right.
Rion had his own speculations on why Cain had been only picking at his food lately. They could only rely on money coming from Rita now, because Cain had quit for reasons that he wouldn't exactly specify. This naturally pissed Rita off to no end, and she demanded a full explanation.
Which she, along with everyone else, never received.
They had been fighting more than usual, and their bickering sessions had escalated into all out yelling matches.
"Cain, what the fuck is your problem?! You're practically killing yourse –"
"Leave me alone! I already told you I'm fine!"
Rion's attention, however, was sharply riveted to the stack of cards that Rainheart's fingers were picking through.
"You just cheated. I saw you." I can't believe I fell for that deal with Cain.
"Did not." Rainheart stubbornly suck out his lip.
Snatching the card from him, Rion turned it over, eyes widening in disbelief. "Plumpy?!" He shot a venomous glare in Rainheart's direction. "You tried to send me back to Plumpy?!"
Lilia stifled a giggle with the corner of a blanket and let the kitten snuggle up against her. Though night was not even close to falling, she was bundled up and lying comfortably on the bed. It was now autumn, but Lilia dressed as if it were winter, in heavy blankets and a knit cap. She said it was because she was cold, but really, Rion knew that her beautiful hair had begun to fall out, and she was ashamed of it. Her eyes had lost their bright luster, she was sickly pale, and she was just so...weak. Even when she tried to keep busy, Rion could see that she was struggling.
So was he – Everyday, having to deal with the inevitable this way.
/-/
Cain sat alone at the table, a hand against the side of his face, which Rion could see was scarlet.
"Cain?" he ventured quietly, reaching out to touch his hand. "Are you –"
He flinched away. "I'm okay. She hit me... So what?"
"Really?" An eyebrow arched in disbelief.
"Shut up." Sliding down in his chair, he flung an arm over his head. "All of us used to always fight like that. That's not what bothers me. I called her a whore... For that, I probably deserved it," Cain mumbled. "It's just...we never fought this much before."
There was a moment of silence, in which Rion took the opportunity to study the huge red mark on the side of his face. "That's not looking very good..." But your eyes are. So is the rest of your face... Damnit, I'm doing it again. "Oh! I forgot to tell you..." It was such good news, he almost smiled. "I got a job today."
"What?!" Cain spun around. "Rion, you asshole!" he yelled, laughing. "If you had told me that, we wouldn't have gotten in a fight in the first place!"
"I got a job, and you just called me an asshole!" He feigned indignation, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hmph."
"Okay, okay... Where is it?"
"The dry cleaners." He stared at Cain, readying himself for retaliation.
Cain grinned. "I can't picture you folding laundry. Sorry." Humming, he closed his eyes, the perfect picture of concentration. "Nope. Sorry, still can't picture it. Couldn't you have gotten a sexier job, like...bartending?"
"Cain!" He gaped and didn't risk speaking further for a few seconds, as there was a chance he might stammer. "Wait..." he realized. "You would've still gotten in a fight with Rita, even if I had told you."
"And why is that?" he demanded non-seriously. The news had evidently put him a better mood.
Too bad he had to wreck that.
"I don't think Rita's doing that so you can starve yourself, Cain." Pausing, he gripped the back of the chair. "What...happened?"
Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. There was something Cain wasn't saying that Rion could still see, something that couldn't be described in words...a kind of unapproachable sadness.
"I think if I wanted your help, I would've asked it for it, Rion," he snapped.
Rion couldn't help it – He winced. "There's no reason for you to be angry with me, Cain," he mimicked angrily. Quite frankly, Cain was making him upset when he was sure he had done nothing wrong to him.
/I'm not angry with you. I'm angry at...myself./
/Why?/
/He was...looking at me./ Cain shifted uneasily, picking at his nails. /My boss was saying things. It's so stupid... I don't even want to tell you. I know it pisses Rita off, but I'm just...uncomfortable –/
"Then it shouldn't matter." Rion gently slipped his hand into Cain's. "She's probably just used to people looking at her that way..."
/I know, but I feel like – like all anyone ever wants is... No one gives a shit. It's all the same, everywhere you go./
"...Are you all right?"
They glanced up to see Lilia leaning against the doorway. She looked exhausted and haphazardly put together, but her affection for them both outweighed the effects of the illness.
"I'm okay," Cain answered, in a much too normal voice.
Apparently aware of this, Lilia headed for the refrigerator. "So, how many ice cubes will that be?"
"Heh."
/-/
Normally, Rion would have locked the door, but he knew that Cain didn't have a key. It was kind of crazy when he stopped to think about it. The apartment was stockpiled with liquor, courtesy of Rita, but Cain seemed to feel like he could only get drunk elsewhere.
If anything's happened to him...
He was almost angry. Almost. That stupid idiot could be getting the shit beat out of him, and it was all because he didn't have sense enough to refrain from wandering around the streets intoxicated. In his own strange form of protest, he was trying to get to sleep, to tell himself that he didn't really care.
It wasn't working too well.
He scratched an itch restlessly, spread out on top of the bed in navy boxers and a t-shirt. The cool autumn air fluttered the sheets around his body as he gazed at the patterns of light against the ceiling. The light – from outside – cast a green illumination across the room.
His eyes...
It was useless. He couldn't stop thinking about him. Just when he thought he was about to go insane from worry, he heard the door click open and jumped up in bed. Though his instincts told him it was Cain, he could never be too sure.
"Cain?" he called out softly, holding his arm out in a defensive position.
When he didn't get a response, he peered in the darkness, straining to see –
"Ow!"
A body fell heavily on top of Rion, crushing him into the mattress. His initial reaction was to panic and let out a few muffled protests, but once he realized that it was Cain by the light from the window, his smell, and his feel, he calmed down considerably. And Cain wasn't so heavy, after all... It was the force of him crashing down on him that he first felt.
"How the hell did you manage to get home?" he breathed, not even bothering to request that Cain roll over.
"Dunno," Cain murmured in his ear. "You tell me..."
Rion flinched at the strong scent of alcohol assaulting his nostrils and replied with what he thought Cain could have figured out, had he not been incredibly drunk. "If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."
Cain giggled hoarsely. "Yeah... Rion?"
"Hn?" Please don't... Don't say or do anything you'll regret.
"Rita... Doesn't she...get it?" He let out a short, miserable laugh. "Even after..."
After what? "Cain..." His arms came up and pulled Cain closer. Meshing their bodies together, he dipped his fingertips in the valleys and over the ridges of Cain's back. He always considered himself so terrible in situations like this...never knowing what to say.
Things happened. No one lived in a perfect world, least of all him, and he was used to loss.
Cain crawled off of him, settling next to him so that their elbows brushed together. For a few minutes, neither of them said anything. Rion considered going to sleep... Maybe Cain was finally doing the same.
"I didn't want it," he suddenly broke the silence.
Confused, Rion stared at his face, looking for some answer and not finding it in his tired, drunken eyes. "The alcohol? Shouldn't have drank it, then."
"Didn't want him."
Rion's stomach flopped sickeningly. "Cain..." he began weakly. "Cain, nothing...happened tonight, right?" I'll...kill...
"No. I'd kick ass before that..."
The word "ass" was so slurred that it sounded like "Ash," and under different circumstances, Rion would have found that funny. It was painfully obvious that Cain disliked...no, strongly disliked Ash.
He could have sighed in relief, though. Thank god, but...then... "Then...?"
"Him... I can't..." His hands twisted in the sheets.
"It's...okay," Rion forced out. "You don't have to."
Faltering breaths. Eyes wide open, scared.
Sleep.
It seemed like it took hours to get Cain to go to sleep. Rion had never done so much coaxing in his entire life.
That night, sleep chose to abandon him instead.
/-/
Rita was home early today. It was almost like she did it on purpose. Rion could only hope, because anyone could see that Cain really needed her.
It was why he pretended to sleep, why he was listening in on their conversation with his back to the kitchen.
"Cain, we can't keep doing this. You can't keep doing this."
"Neither can you... How can you even do this after to yourself after...? Are you blind or something?"
"I'm not blind." Her voice was trembling terribly, and Rion imagined that she must be doing the same. "That's the thing... If you had to go do that, so could I –"
"Rita... You don't actually blame yourself for that, do you?"
She didn't answer, striking up a pang of sympathy in Rion.
"You do... Why do you keep punishing yourself every – single – fucking – night?" He was breaking.
Rion didn't have to see his face to know that.
"Stop it... Stop it! I was supposed to protect you. You were... God, you were only a child."
"I'm not a child anymore!" he protested quietly. "It wasn't your job to protect me, Rita. If you hadn't walked in that day, it would've gone on forever... Forever."
"Cain..."
"Promise me. Please. Promise me you'll quit doing this to yourself."
"I... I promise."
Rion couldn't help it – He shifted to catch a glimpse of them embracing.
/-/
The smell of nail polish stung his nose.
Cain.
Struggling to open his eyes, he discovered something else. Damnit, it's cold. Wait... His clothes – well, all of them except for his undershorts – were missing. "Cain," he started to say, halting as he watched his breath puff out into the air like smoke. Snow would fall shortly... He blinked blearily, trusting Cain, despite the fact that he was nearly naked. "Where are my clothes?"
"Laundry day," Cain stated nonchalantly. "You gave me your clothes, remember?"
"No..." He stretched, shivering slightly, and wrapped the sheets tighter around his body.
Glancing over at the table, he saw that Cain was painting his nails in his dark red boxers, his back to him.
"Should've –" Rion yawned. "– asked me when I was awake."
"The earlier we clean them, the less chance we have of getting caught outside here on our way to the laundry room."
Rion could hear the smirk in his voice and couldn't help but follow it with one of his own. The thought of sprinting through the apartment complex like this with Cain was intriguing, he had to admit.
"Breakfast?" he inquired, catching a whiff of what he thought might be...eggs?
"Eggs," Cain confirmed, as if reading his mind.
This information brought him out of bed – amazing, but then again, not so amazing when he considered how hungry he was.
With just a fleeting look in Rion's direction as he shuffled to the eggs on the stove, Cain declared, "My, my. You're looking regal."
Clutching the "robe" around himself, Rion replied with an "Mmf" and shoveled some eggs on a plate. When he sat down at the table across from Cain, he almost tripped over the chair, struck by the shiny, black slickness of Cain's nails. He said he did it to discourage biting them, but there certainly were aesthetic advantages.
Cain snickered sleepily at the sight. "Not a morning person?"
"Not an early morning person," Rion corrected, digging his fork into the eggs – fried, how he liked them best.
He enjoyed the sound of Cain's voice, his laughter especially, but he could appreciate the silences between them, as well. Watching him was sometimes enough, and if Cain was rather intent on task – like now – he didn't even notice. The dim light shone in his hair, gleamed off his strikingly colored green eyes, outlined those soft lips. Well, Rion imagined that they were soft. He didn't really know – Agh, what the hell am I thinking?
"Rion?"
"Ah – Hm?"
"Do I have something on my face?" A slight grin. A raised eyebrow.
Rion inwardly groaned. Shit. "...No, I was just thinking that the dishes need done," he filled in. Pretty lamely, if he did say so himself. Abruptly, he pushed his chair out from under the table and walked casually towards the sink, like he had been planning to go to it all along.
The hot water warmed his chilly hands as he filled the sink. Good thing the dishes needed cleaned, otherwise he wouldn't have a valid excuse. Gripping the bottle of bright yellow dish soap, Rion proceeded to squirt some into the steaming, cloudy water – then he almost let it slip out of his hands when an arm snaked around his chest.
"You left your plate at the table, Rion," Cain whispered teasingly in his ear.
Rion stiffened, trying to force himself to relax, but to no avail. Through the thin sheets, Cain's nipples rubbed against his back.
Rion had to bite his lip to restrain a moan.
"You wash; I'll dry." Cain grinned, grabbing a dishcloth before Rion even had a chance to respond.
Staring at the daunting pile of dishes – attempting to ignore Cain, who just couldn't be this seductive accidentally – he realized that he couldn't wash dishes and keep the sheets wrapped around his body at the same time.
"This morning, when I woke up...I really thought we should invest in a heavier blanket," Rion informed him, teeth chattering as he allowed the sheets to drop around his ankles. They warmed his feet up only slightly – The freezing linoleum was damning.
Cain laughed, catching his eye for a split-second. Then his gaze trailed lower. Back up again.
Rion blinked. Am I imagining this?
"Rainheart has like twenty, but they all smell." Cain's faint laughter dissipated in the cold morning air.
Rion only wrinkled his nose at the thought, silently scrubbing while admiring the rich sound of that laughter.
"So, how's the dry cleaning job?"
"It's good. The head guy leaves a lot, though," Rion answered, glad that Cain wasn't currently saying anything blush-worthy.
"Should give you a lot of time to...you know..." Cain waggled his eyebrows jokingly in exaggerated motions.
Scratch the idea of not "saying anything blush-worthy." Though, maybe he wouldn't have to worry about his face turning red when most of his blood was going elsewhere. Not that that's any better. Aghh.
At any rate, words failed him, and the only thing that he could focus on was the spray nozzle. Slapping on the taps, he yanked out his savior and turned it on Cain.
/...Pervert...!/
Cain shrieked (in a masculine way, Rion noted – he had less fodder for poking at him) and jumped about five feet over, knocking into a counter by the refrigerator. "Goddamnit, Rion! Stoppp, aghh! I was kidding!"
When Rion mercilessly resisted relenting, Cain dove into his arms and wrested it out of his grip, sending them both toppling to the floor.
Too late, Rion discovered that their equal heights made...certain areas touch each other.
And he was half-hard.
Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck! his brain shouted desperately. He couldn't move away, either, because Cain was pinning him down, fingers curled firmly around each wrist. Instead, he opted for completely ignoring the present situation. "It's not like the water was cold."
The lukewarm water in question that was dripping off Cain's chest and onto Rion was proof of this, as was the soaking waistband of Cain's undershorts. Unsurprisingly, Cain chose not to debate Rion's point, instead focusing on a more prominent issue.
"Rion," he breathed. "Rion. You're..."
He could only bite his lip and look away, studying the swirly patterns on the linoleum – but not really, when they were so blurred and faint, fading out behind the too-fast thudding beneath his ribs. "Are you going to let me go?"
Oh, how it hurt to say that. Everything was going to go to shit.
"Not if you don't want me to."
That definitely got his attention. Jerking his head back to look Cain in the eyes, he discovered that he was being serious, being completely honest.
"I don't want you to," he heard himself saying. It slipped out before he even thought about it – He could hardly believe either of them right now.
A smile slowly formed on Cain's face. "You've been driving me nuts for weeks, you know..."
Rion didn't know, but Cain seemed out to prove it, grinding against him in a fraction of a moment – and then abruptly halting.
"Unngh..." Rion groaned, arching off the floor, baring his throat. "Cain!" he gasped in disbelief.
"Hmm?" Cain smirked, not moving.
I want... "Please..." Cupping Cain's face, he leaned up and pressed their lips together chastely, reveling in the softness of the mouth that he had longed for.
Cain's mouth parted, tongue darting out to trace the edge of Rion's bottom lip. Instinctively, Rion opened his mouth, letting out a little breathless gasp as Cain took the initiative by sliding his tongue over Rion's.
"Heh, your eyes are huge." Cain gently kissed the corner of his mouth.
"That felt...different but really good," Rion confessed, still giddy at the taste of Cain on his tongue.
Now it was Cain's turn to go wide-eyed. "That... That was your first kiss?" His voice cracked. "Like kiss kiss?!"
Embarrassed, Rion glanced away. "Ah... Yeah. Is that bad?"
"No." Cain shook his head fervently. "No, no... I just can't believe that no one has ever kissed you. How could they not?"
"Cain!" That didn't help the embarrassment much. He had never taken compliments well. "I did spend my teenage years asleep..."
"Shit, I'm going to hell for corrupting an innocent," Cain lamented mock-seriously.
Rion rolled his eyes. "You've corrupted no one." His mouth slipped into a playful smile, while his knee was rubbing itself against Cain in a most provocative manner. There was a chance of getting caught, but everyone was asleep, and he wanted this too badly to care.
Cain sucked in air. /Keep doing that, and I'm going to need a cold shower.../
/I like the first part./
"Smartass," Cain murmured, spreading Rion's thighs with needy, shaking hands.
"You're calling me tha...that... Ahhn..." He broke off at the insistent rocking force from Cain, which was pushing them together intimately.
Clutching a hip, Cain drove them together faster, harder...
/Want you.../ Rion mentally choked out. He could just picture what he must look like, cheeks flushed, arching wantonly like this.
"Need you..." Cain mimicked and smiled – falteringly, probably because it was too much of an effort to concentrate on that area of his body.
Rion's boxers were getting irritating, but he knew that it was far too soon to cross that line. Oh, god... The thought of it granted him an extra shiver. Rion had no idea what to do, Cain most likely respected him enough not to push it at this time, and then...there was the issue of Birdman... Don't. Think. About. That.
And then he really couldn't, couldn't think of that when Cain was thrusting against him so sweetly, slick with sweat and water, moaning softly – his name here and there, mostly just sounds – Another kiss, those lips on is, tongue tickling the roof of his mouth... And it was just lovely enough that he couldn't – couldn't take it –
"Ah...!" Rion shuddered, going speechless as he was consumed by explosive, intense pleasure. Feels so good... Nnnnh... He had never know something like that in all his days of living.
A feeling of bonelessness seeped in. He sagged limply on the linoleum, sated but very, very sticky. And topped by a still very, very needy Cain.
He licked his lips, gazing up into Cain's half-lidded eyes. As much as he loved to see him taken in by such a high, this simply could not go on. Sucking on Cain's collarbone, he let his hands – which had previously been holding onto to Cain's shoulders like he was bound to them – drag down his spine. Then lower... Squeezing, kneading. Cain's ass was firm but round at the same time.
Rion thought that he was perfect in every way.
"Nghh..." Cain collapsed on him, easing into the comforting, light caresses Rion offered. Propping himself up on his elbows, he kissed Rion's ear wetly, nipping and tugging at his earring.
"Cain..."
They both rested there, panting, melded together, and Rion didn't want it to end. He almost groaned when the obvious lack of body heat brushed over his body.
"Just a second..." Cain heaved himself up and rummaged about the sink before returning with a clean washcloth.
It was only then that Rion really paid attention to the mess they had made. He was in a puddle, and his thighs – no, both of their thighs – were splattered with fluid. An odd kind of thrill took him over then, knowing that traces of Cain were left on himself.
Cain tenderly wiped Rion's skin clean, meeting his eyes silently.
"Thank you..." It wasn't enough to express how he completely felt, but it was enough.
There was an understanding between them.
"You should shower," Rion added. "I was the one who sprayed you."
"That sounds so erotic." Cain snickered, pulling Rion up with him so that they were both standing, even as he got a playful shove in response.
"I'm glad you did that...with the water, I mean. You look so cute pissed."
Rion's face reddened. Normally, he would have searched for words to counter with, but Cain was already walking down the hall to the bathroom.
He allowed himself a smile, but then... Ash. How could he have forgotten? And with the possibility of seeing him at any time... He tried to envision himself telling Ash, but it was all so ridiculous that he could have laughed. Strangely, no guilt crept in. It wasn't like he was cheating on Ash, and, at least right now...
He was just too damn happy to feel guilty.